Holding Out for a Hero
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Bart Maverick's life is never dull. A drunken cowboy, a dark secret, and revelations from the past all combine to form the path to a surprising but welcome proposal.
1. Prologue

Holding Out for a Hero

Prologue

Almost three months had passed since Maude Donovan and Cristian de la Torres were married, and they'd settled into a nice little routine. Most of the time Maude still ran the biggest and best saloon in Little Bend, Texas, Maude's, and Cristian practiced law in and around the area. Cristian had clients in New Mexico and Arizona, and when he had to go handle business for them, Maude went with him.

When they were gone Maude's daughter Doralice took over the saloon, and I guess I did, too. My name's Bart Maverick, and someday soon I'm gonna marry Doralice. No, I hadn't officially asked her yet, but it was just, well, understood that marriage was somewhere on the agenda.

I'm a professional poker player. Some folks would call me a gambler, but they'd be wrong. Gambling is roulette, and Faro, and dozens of other ways to lose your money to the saloon. Poker is a science, and a lucrative one at that when played correctly. And when Doralice is running the saloon I'm her floor manager. I keep the games and the gamblers honest and fair.

Maude and Cristian had just left two days ago for Tucson, and things were running pretty smoothly at the saloon. Nobody had tried to shoot, stab, or maim anyone else recently, and we'd only had one cowboy hauled off to jail. Sheriff Dave Parker, an old friend, told me there was some muttering on the cowboy's part about 'gettin' even with that Maverick fella.' I ignored the threat.

Randy was working with Doralice behind the bar, and my lady and me had decided to have an early supper. We'd gone down the street to the newest cantina and had just ordered when that same cowboy came barrelin' inside. Drunk as he'd been the night before, if not worse, he was shootin' his gun off into the air and yellin' about that 'damn Maverick.' I grabbed Doralice and shoved her behind me, then got out my own gun just as the sheriff arrived.

"I guess you didn't understand get out of town, did you?" Parker yelled as he buffaloed the cowboy and knocked him out cold. He then turned to me while he gathered the drunk off the floor. "Sorry, Bart. He gets thirty days in jail this time." He tipped his hat and dragged the unconscious man across the cantina floor and out the front doors.

"Are you alright?" I asked Doralice as I gathered her into my arms.

"I am," she replied, "but I'm starving. Can we stay and eat?"

I laughed. That's my lady. And I gave it no more thought until we'd returned to the saloon an hour later. That's where we found Dave Parker waiting for us. "What's up, Dave?"

"Bart . . . can we talk someplace private?"

"Sure, come with me. Doralice, we're gonna be in your office." She nodded, and I took Dave with me.

"What's the matter?" I asked as I closed the door.

"That cowboy that tried to kill you? He's dead."

"What?" I didn't know what else to say. He'd been plenty alive when he tried to shoot me in the cantina.

"I dragged him back to a cell and locked him up. Then Willie came in and we talked about a couple things, and before he left again he checked on the prisoner. He's dead, Bart."

I sighed. Far be it for me to want to see anyone dead, but the man did try to kill me. And Dave was just doing his job when he hit the guy. "It wasn't somethin' you tried to do, Dave. You were tryin' to keep from killin' him. It just happened."

Dave shook his head. "I sure hope this don't turn into somethin' bigger."

"What else could it turn into? He was just another cowboy that drank more than he should have."


	2. Rory Emory Rides Again

Chapter 1 – Rory Emory Rides Again

Maude and Cristian had just come back from their latest trip to El Paso, and they were worn out. Doralice and me were mindin' the store, so to speak, and it must have been about nine o'clock when trouble first walked in. Tall and well-dressed, he was somewhere in his late forties. Short, reddish hair with a neat goatee and a trim mustache, he sounded like Jim Buckley – eastern accent, educated, smarter than the rest of us. I was running one of the roulette wheels, and Doralice was in her office doing bookwork.

Randy, the head bartender, came and got me first. I looked at the business card Randy handed me and sent him after Doralice. I closed the game and headed for our visitor. The card had read 'Zebulon Eustus Alexander, Esq.' and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I got to the attorney first and introduced myself, and we shook hands. "I was wondering if Mrs. Donovan was in. I know it's quite late, but I was given to understand that she's often here at this hour."

"Which Mrs. Donovan?" I asked politely. "Mrs. Maude Donovan de la Torres or Mrs. Doralice Donovan?"

"Mrs. Maude Donovan. She is the owner of the saloon, I believe?"

"She is," Doralice answered as she arrived. "She's also my mother. She isn't in this evening. Can I help you?"

"Delightful as that would be, Mrs. Donovan, I'm afraid my mission is with the owner, and the owner alone. Will she be in tomorrow? At a different time, perhaps?"

"She should be here sometime after noon, Mr. Alexander. May I tell her you'll be in to see her?"

He nodded. "Yes, please. And give her my card. Thank you, Mrs. Donovan, Mr. Maverick."

It was at that exact moment that I realized how much I disliked hearing 'Mrs. Donovan' when referring to Doralice. I was gonna hafta do somethin' about that, and sooner rather than later. But for now . . . there was a different matter at hand.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Doralice asked.

"I don't know," I told her, "but I've got a feelin' we ain't gonna like it."

My words proved prophetic. Doralice and me were at Maude's house, sleeping peacefully, when there was a loud pounding at the front door. Muttering and mumbling, I got out of bed and pulled the door open. There stood Art Sanders, one of Maude's daytime bartenders. "Sorry to do this to you, Bart, but Maude sent me up here to get you and Miss Doralice down to the saloon right away."

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I told Art, "We'll be there as soon as we can." Within twenty minutes we were on our way.

"Zebulon Eustus Alexander?" Doralice asked as we walked down the street.

"Don't forget the Esquire," I added.

"What do you suppose he wants?"

I shook my head as I held the doors open for her. "I don't know, but it can't be good."

Maude was waiting for us in her office. She had a glass of brandy in front of her, and I've never seen her quite as upset as she was right then. "Sit down, you two. Tell me again all about Mr. Alexander, please. From the beginning."

I let Doralice do the talking. I was too busy tryin' to figure out just what it was that Mr. Alexander wanted. It had to be somethin' significant; Maude's hand shook when she lifted the brandy glass to her lips. And in all the time I'd known her, I'd never seen Maude's hand shake.

"And that's all he had to say? Nothin' else?"

"Not a word," I replied.

"What did he want, Maude? What's got you so upset?"

I don't know who was the most shocked by the words that came out of Maude's mouth, Doralice or me. "He wants Maude's. Got a court order that says the saloon don't belong to me, or anybody else sittin' in this room."

"He's got a what?" tumbled out of Doralice's mouth. She looked perplexed.

"Did he leave you a copy? And have you sent for Cristian?" I tried to remain calm – this had to be a scam of some sort.

"Here," Maude handed me what Mr. Alexander left for her. "Cristian's in court in Fort Worth today. I sent a wire, but God knows when he'll get it."

I looked over the paper I held in my hands. Among all the 'whereas's and therefore's' I finally found what I was looking for – a name. Jedidiah Milford Pike. And it meant absolutely nothing to me. I handed it to Doralice and she continued to look perplexed, so I turned my attention to Maude. She was shaking her head.

"I have no idea who he is. Jedidiah Milford Pike. Never heard of the man in my life. According to that document, I got the land that this saloon is built on by fraudulent means, and everything built on it is forfeit to this Pike fella."

"Not the expansion, Maude. It can't include the expansion. You bought that fair and square from Mildred Doyle. Well, sort of fair and square." Maude, Cristian and me had conspired to make Miss Doyle believe I was Maude's financial backer, the 'real' owner of the saloon. We hadn't done it to defraud her; she just wouldn't sell to a woman without a man's money behind her. So, with help from Cristian, we presented Miss Doyle with legal papers showing that I was the man with the money. Once she was satisfied, the paperwork was destroyed and Maude's reverted to its rightful owner – Maude Donovan.

"I don't know what it includes, Bart. Cristian can figure that out. "

"What does this Pike expect you to do – just turn the business over to him lock, stock and barrel?"

Maude shook her head. "No, it looks like it takes effect in thirty days. At least it gives us some time to try and find out what it's all about, and who it's all about."

Doralice handed the order back to Maude, and we started to get up. "Bart, can you stay for a minute? There's something I need to tell you."

"Sure, Maude," I told her. "Wait for me?" I asked Doralice.

"You know I will. Art can fix me one of his special cups of coffee." Art had invented some concoction that my girl just loved. I don't know what all he did to it, but I know he used coffee, cream, sugar, a pinch of brandy, and his 'famous ingredient.' And Doralice was crazy about the stuff.

"Someday I wouldn't be surprised to find you bathin' in it," I laughed as I kissed her.

"Well, I might run away with him if he'd teach me how to make it," she giggled back. Small chance of that. Art was fiftyish, balding, plump, and married with six kids. Once she was gone and the door was closed I sat back down and gave Maude my full attention.

"I made a remark when we were first talking about ownership that you know nothing about, and I thought it was time I told you."

"What remark was that?"

"Got a court order that says the saloon don't belong to me, or anybody else sittin' in this room."

I still didn't understand what she was trying to tell me. "I assume you meant your daughter."

Maude shook her head and for the first time in her life, looked sheepish. "Nope. I meant you."

"Me? What has that got to do with me?"

"You own ten percent of Maude's, Bart. Remember the papers you signed before Cristian and I got married?"

I had some vague recollection of signing paperwork for her, just as a witness, I was told at the time. Maude shook her head. "I transferred ten percent ownership to you, without your knowledge."

I sat there for a minute, stunned. "Why, Maude?"

"Because every time I've ever needed a favor from you, you've been there for me. You haven't asked for anything in return, and you've refused any sort of payment I've tried to give you. All the way back to Marshal Rory Emory. I thought you had sort of a vested interest in the place, and this was the best way I could think of to give it to you. And you wouldn't have taken it any other way."

Sneaky, my friend Maude was. She knew me too well. I sighed and looked across the desk at her. "You didn't need . . . "

"That's just it, Bart. I did need to. But I never meant to get you involved in whatever this turns out to be. And I'm sorry if it causes any kind of a problem."

"Don't worry about it, Maude. We'll just let Marshal Emory take care of it." And we both started laughing, even though it wasn't funny.


	3. Billy Flynn

Chapter 2 – Billy Flynn

Cristian wired back that afternoon, but it was two days before he returned from El Paso. He had another trial in Claytonville on Wednesday and needed Tuesday to prepare for it, so we met in Maude's office on Monday afternoon.

To say that Maude's own personal attorney (and brand new husband) was perplexed would be saying a lot. Cristian was calm and steady, and very little rattled him. The court order he held in his hands came as close as anything I've ever seen. "I know that we're all aware of most of the facts, but let's go over this just to make sure. Maude, how did you acquire the property that the saloon stands on?"

Maude cleared her throat and took a sip of her ever-present brandy. "I came through here on the way to San Antonio about fifteen years ago. We had a layover and I got to see the town, and everybody was so friendly. The LB Bar was the only saloon in town, and I wandered down there and had a long chat with Ray Ames. And I found out about this man named Billy Flynn who had a piece of land in the middle of the town with a building half-started on it. Billy's bankroll had fallen on hard times, and he was desperate to sell his saloon-in-progress. My money was waiting for me in San Antone, along with my daughter, Doralice. The deal was just too good to pass up, and I wired her what I was gonna do. I never got an answer."

Doralice bowed her head and muttered under her breath, "Stupid. I was stupid." I reached over and took her hand in mine. She smiled, like she always did, and lit up the room.

"Billy Flynn and me struck a deal, and we shook on it. I went on to San Antonio and got the money in order, then wired Billy and told him when I'd be back with it. That's when I found out what Doralice had done." It was a long, painful story that ended with Doralice sentenced to hang in Mexico for what was self-defense. That's how I got involved with the Donovan's, and wasn't relevant to the purchase of the land in Little Bend and the building of Maude's. And Doralice didn't need to hear it again.

"When I came back to town we had Terence Moss draw up the bill of sale. He was the attorney here in town at the time. And I got Maude's built. That's it. That's all there is to it. Nothin' elaborate, nothin' underhanded, nothin' complicated. And certainly nothin' fraudulent."

Cristian nodded. "The original bill of sale is in the safe in my office. I've read it over many times, in the course of one transaction or another. Maude's absolutely correct when she says it's not complicated or fraudulent. Bart, when we're done here I'd like you to come up to my office and look it over."

"Any particular reason, Cristian?" I'd be more than happy to cooperate; I was just curious more than anything.

"Several of them. I'll explain when we get there. Maude, has anyone questioned you about ownership, construction, remodeling, anything to do with the property or the building in the last six months – no, the last year?"

Maude shook her head. "No one except you, darlin'."

"Doralice, you haven't said much. Anything you can think of to add?"

Those blonde curls shook with her head, but there was something in her eyes . . . I didn't know what it was, but something was bothering her.

Cristian got up. "Alright, then I think Bart and I better go on up to my office. I promise not to keep him."

We were halfway to the law office before I asked. "Why did you want me to see the original bill of sale, Cristian?"

"Let's wait until we get inside."

Once we were in Cristian's offices, he pulled the shade down and locked the doors. "If this is a scam, it could be anybody involved. I don't want to take any chances. As for you reading the bill of sale – Mavericks have been in Little Bend a lot longer than I have. You might recognize a name or a description of something that I wouldn't. Here, come on in here, it's more comfortable."

I followed Cristian into his office; I could see Maude's hand in the decoration. The desk and bookcases were solid mahogany; the two overstuffed chairs covered in dark blue velvet fabric. A formidable looking safe in one corner of the room; a true man's office. I took one of the chairs and waited while Cristian unlocked the safe. Once given the document, it took me almost thirty minutes to read it through once, then read it again. There were only two things that were familiar; the first one was the name Billy Flynn.

Billy was a well-known card sharp who tried to put together enough money to build a saloon in Little Bend for years. Pappy and Uncle Ben used to talk about him when we were kids; they'd have liked nothing better than for Billy to get himself run out of town. It looked like that was never gonna happen, and they reluctantly accepted the fact that Little Bend was stuck with him.

Then, almost overnight, things began to change. First, it was rumored that Billy had acquired a piece of property in town; the very land that Maude's stands on. Next, the old warehouse standing in that spot was torn down, and new building began. Things slowed on the new building until one day it all came to a halt, and the rumor circulated that Billy was in financial trouble and needed to sell everything he owned. Sometime later, according to Pappy, Maude moved to Little Bend and building began again – only this time it was owned by Maude Donovan, not Billy Flynn.

The second thing that was familiar was the address listed for the property. Little Bend had just begun giving addresses to businesses and buildings erected on Main Street, and Maude's property on the bill of sale was shown as 549 Main Street. A few years later the buildings were renumbered, and the address was changed to 561, but the original bill of sale was never corrected to reflect the new address.

"Whatever happened to Billy Flynn?" I asked Cristian. "Does anybody know?"

"Killed in a gunfight in Abilene five or six years ago," Cristian told me. I was surprised he knew.

"Do you know who did it?" It might not seem important, but it might turn out to be important.

"No."

"See if you can find out," I advised. "And this change of address – do you have anything from the city council that shows the change?"

"Not in Maude's file. I'll check and see if I have one anyplace else. If not, I'll get one from them."

I spent another fifteen minutes or so going over the bill of sale again. No matter how many times I read it, I couldn't come up with anything else. "Sorry, Cristian, that's all I can find."

"That's more than I caught, Bart. I knew you might find things I couldn't. I'll get going on this right away, and thanks for your help."

I stood up to go but thought of something else. "Just remember, if this is some kind of a con, whoever's pulling it could know somethin' about one of us that the others don't. Or it might have nothin' to do with any of us."

"I hope you're right about that – that it has nothing to do with any of us." There was a tone in Cristian's voice that I hadn't heard before. It wasn't exactly fear . . . maybe just plain worry. And maybe I was imagining things.


	4. Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

Chapter 3 – Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

When I got back to Maude's, Doralice was in her mother's office with the door closed. "Tell them I'll be back later," was the message I left with Art and went out the batwing doors. Blue, my roan mare, was tied up out front, and I mounted and turned her toward Uncle Ben's. Time I went and talked to him and Pappy, to see if they knew anything else about Billy Flynn or the elusive Mr. Pike.

Pappy was still asleep, so Ben sat with me on the front porch and we smoked a while. He told me all sorts of stories about Billy Flynn, and how every time the town thought it was rid of him, he found a way to come back. Nobody knew who he bought the property from that eventually became Maude's. Jackson Baker owned it, then it was sold to Frank Dunkirk, then Lester O'Day, and that's when everyone lost track of it. Two or three years passed while the empty and rapidly decaying warehouse just sat there. No one knew who owned it or what was to be done with it until one day Billy Flynn turned up with the Deed of Ownership and began tearing it down.

Jackson Baker and Lester O'Day were dead, and Frank Dunkirk had moved to California some years ago, so the ownership trail went cold. When I asked Ben who Billy Flynn owed money to, all Ben could remember was that it was another gambler, but no one local. And he couldn't remember a name.

Pappy woke up and joined us on the porch, but he was no more help than Uncle Ben. And neither one remembered anything about the address change on the buildings at all. Why did I know about it? All I could figure was something came up about it while I was still in school, and that's how I knew.

I spent some time in the barn with Noble and Melody and Gracie. All three were gettin' older, as was yours truly, and it started me thinkin' about the future. And I don't mean the 'many years down the road' future, I mean the immediate future. I was rememberin' how much that 'Mrs. Donovan' moniker rankled me every time I heard it applied to Doralice, and just what I was gonna have to do to change it. And thinkin' about Doralice made me wonder just what it was that I saw in her eyes when we were all sittin' in Maude's office earlier in the day. Cristian had been right about one thing when he said Doralice was awfully quiet.

We'd talked a lot about our childhoods and all the things that had happened when we were growing up, but there was one thing we never talked about – and that was Doralice's marriage to Sergio Medina. They were married for almost five years before he tried to beat her to death and she shot him twice with a derringer. I knew a few more details than that, but not a whole lot. I was the one that rescued her from hanging in Mexico, and it almost cost me my life to do it. I wondered if she thought this attempt to get everything Maude owned was connected to the Medina family, still quite powerful in Monterrey. There was only one way to find out.

I took my leave of Ben and Pappy and headed back to town. I stopped at Maude's first because I wasn't sure just where Doralice would be, and if she wasn't around I wanted to talk to her mother. There was no sign of Doralice but Maude's door was open, so I knocked on the door frame. She looked up and waved me in. "I wondered how long you were gonna be out at the house. How are the boys?"

By boys, of course, she meant Ben and Pappy. "They're fine," I told her. "Gettin' old, like the rest of us. They send their regards."

"They don't come in much anymore. Have I been replaced as their favorite?"

I shook my head. "Nobody'll ever replace you, Maude. They don't go anywhere much anymore. Once in a great while to the LB Bar to see if Ray's still standin', once in a while to Claytonville. They still come here more than anyplace else. They've gotten to be homebodies."

"What about Bret and Beau?"

"Bret's travelin' with Ginny most of the time. And Beau, I'm afraid, has become a permanent resident of Baton Rouge."

"Got married again, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did. To a beautiful girl named Danielle."

She shook her head. "Time sure goes by, doesn't it? Seems like just yesterday that I convinced you to go bring Doralice back from Mexico."

I sat down in front of her desk. "Since she's not here, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What, Doralice? Or Mexico?" I knew which one she was hoping for, but the talk about her daughter and me was gonna hafta wait for now.

"When we were all here earlier – there was somethin' botherin' blue eyes. You got any idea what it was?"

Maude watched me a long time before she answered me. "You know she was here with me talkin', don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you know that she's the one you should be talkin' to."

"I will, Maude. I just . . . there's so much I haven't asked her about the marriage to Medina. I didn't wanna bring up somethin' that was bound to be painful. But I know what she was thinkin' this mornin'. She was wonderin' if they were responsible, wasn't she? After all this time."

"The thought had crossed her mind."

"What do you think?" I wasn't gonna ask Maude what Doralice had to say about the whole thing, but I did wanna get Maude's opinion on the subject.

"To tell you the truth, I think if they were gonna do anything, they'd have done it a long time ago."

"Yeah, they didn't seem to have a lot of patience, did they?" I wasn't kidding. In just a matter of weeks they'd arrested Doralice, put her on trial and convicted her, sentenced her to hang, and tried to do just that. The only thing that delayed them was Cristian's knowledge of the Mexican court system and Maude's money – used as bribes where necessary. Until the money ran out. That's where I came in.

I masqueraded as a Texas State Police Marshal named Rory Emory and almost succeeded in getting Doralice back to Texas. Almost because I was shot by a Mexican Federales rifle in a mad chase across the desert and Doralice had to keep me alive for over a week with a raging infection, little food and even less water. How she managed it I'll never know; I was delusional or unconscious most of the time. Bret and Beau had to finally come find me, and they got us all back across the border in one piece.

"No, the Medina's aren't long on patience. That's why I don't think there's anything to worry about from them. Of course, I've been wrong before." We both laughed. Then she stared at me as seriously as I've ever seen her. "She's worried, Bart. It's been more than four months since the two of you worked out your differences and got back together, and nothin's changed. Is it ever going to?"

"You mean, am I ever gonna marry her?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Don't you think that should be between me and Doralice?"

"I do believe that." Pause. "I'm not gonna get any more out of you than that, am I?"

I grinned at her. "No, ma'am."

"Alright, get outta here. She's at the house."

Ten minutes later, I was at the front door. Maude and Cristian had bought another house closer to the edge of town, and Doralice had taken over Maude's old place. Most of the time I was there with her, so I had a key. This evening the door wasn't locked, and when I walked in I could hear the sound of my lady crying. Whatever caused it, I wanted to stop it. "Doralice?" I called.

The crying stopped, and her voice sounded almost normal. "In here, Bart," she called from the bedroom.

I went to the room where we'd spent so many nights and found her sitting on the edge of the bed. "Blue eyes?"

She turned around and smiled at me, but the smile couldn't hide the tears. Had I caused this?


	5. The Sam Winston

Chapter 4 – The Sam Winston

I sat down on the bed next to her and gathered her into my arms. I can't remember the last time I'd seen her cry, but I was probably responsible for it. "Doralice? What's wrong?"

There were no more tears, but she was still upset. "What if it's them, Bart? What if the Medina's are behind this?"

"Shhh, honey, I don't think it is. I just don't think they woulda waited this long to try somethin'."

"Neither does Maude."

I didn't wanna upset her any further, but she needed to know the truth. "I know. I talked to Maude. She wouldn't say much, but I did get that out of her."

She sat up straight and pulled away from me just a little. "You talked to Maude? What did she tell you?"

"That I should talk to you." Now it was up to Doralice. If she wanted to tell me about her marriage, the door was wide open. If not, everything would go on like before.

I guess it was time, because the story just started pouring out of her. How good looking Sergio was, how well he treated her, how much she loved him. And then, as time went by, how everything began to change. The drinking started, and then the gambling, and finally he was staying out all night, and smelling like the Señorita's when he did come home. Doralice begged and pleaded with him to stop, and he did, for a while.

But it didn't last, and when she protested, the beatings began. Why a man would ever hit a woman I will never understand, but especially that woman. It made no sense to me. She took it as long as she could, and then one day while he was asleep, she packed a bag and moved out. It took him almost two months to find her, and when he did, he was drunk and abusive. He demanded she sleep with him; after all, she was still his wife. When she refused he threatened to beat her until she did, and she pulled her derringer from under the pillow and pumped both barrels into him as he came after her.

She tried to tell me the rest of the story, but the tears had started again, and she was too upset to continue. I held her in my arms and rocked her until she calmed down, and finally reminded her that I had almost first-hand knowledge of everything else. "You were so different," she explained. "No matter what I said, no matter what I did, you protected me. You treated me like a lady, not like a common . . . "

"That was easy to do. You are a lady."

"I love you, Bart Maverick." She reached up and kissed me, and I kissed her back.

"I love you too, Doralice. In fact, there's somethin' . . . "

"Don't say anything else. Just hold me."

And my question was once again put on hold. For now.

XXXXXXXX

Cristian's trial lasted two days. While he was occupied with that, I went down to the LB Bar to spend an afternoon with Ray Ames. If there was anybody in this town that could give me answers, it was Ray.

I almost didn't recognize the place. The dirt floor had been replaced by wooden planks. All the old, broken chairs were gone, and the poker tables, while not brand new, were in a lot better shape than before. Even the bar was different. "Quite a change from what used to be here," I told Ray, and he smiled. Sort of.

"Yep, thought maybe Benny was gonna replace me with somebody new and shiny, too."

"Why didn't he?"

"Couldn't find anybody that'd work for him." That got a genuine laugh out of Ray.

"Ray, you been in town almost longer than anybody I know of. Tell me what you know about whoever it was Billy Flynn owed money to."

Ray shook his head. "Billy owed money to a lot of people."

"The one he owed when he finally sold the land to Maude."

Ray rubbed his chin, and I poured him another whiskey. If you were gonna pick Ray's brain, you were gonna hafta prime it with whiskey first. "Let's see, that was Sam Winston, I believe. Wait, now, give me a minute. Fred Little staked claim to all of what turned into Main Street, then he sold the north half to Walter Brown and the south half to Jed Wheatley. Walter sold acreage to Jackson Baker, then Frank Dunkirk bought the land and built the warehouse. Dunkirk had it for years and years, used the warehouse for grain storage, until he decided to go to California. Lester O'Day bought it, but Lester got killed by the last Comanche attack in the area, and the property just sat there for a few more years while the town built up around it."

"How'd Billy get the deed?" I asked, hoping that Ray would have an answer.

"Nobody ever found out. But it was verified as legal by the state court in Austin, before they'd let him start buildin' on the land. He was goin' along real good there for a while . . . then he got himself in some trouble over in Claytonville. Next thing anybody knew, he'd worked out a deal with Maude Donovan and disappeared. But I'm almost positive it was Sam Winston that he owed big time."

"The Sam Winston?"

Ray nodded. "There was only one that I know of."

I overheard a conversation about Sam Winston once when I was a kid between Uncle Ben and Pappy that I never forgot. Sam was one of the best card sharps in the South, and he was absolutely deadly with a gun. Uncle Ben got himself into a little bit of trouble with Winston, and Pappy almost couldn't get him out. I don't know how Pappy worked it, but he never let Ben forget just how close he came to disaster.

"How sure are you about that, Ray?" Not that I doubted Ray's word; just his memory.

"I'm sure, Bart."

"What happened to Sam Winston? Alive, dead, got any idea?"

"I heard he went to New York, turned into one of them eastern gentlemen. Even changed his name."

"Changed his name? Well, I guess you might if you didn't want your reputation to follow you." I chewed on that for a while. I could understand the necessity of a name change, but I couldn't imagine being called anything but Maverick. No matter what.


	6. Apple Pie

Chapter 5 – Apple Pie

Cristian did some long-distance investigation of the Medina family and turned up . . . nothing. They had very quietly sold all of their operations in Monterrey and moved everything to Tampico almost two years ago. There was no indication they had anything to do with the action against Maude.

This was beyond a relief for Doralice, and I got my happy-go-lucky, not carrying the weight of the world girl back. Maybe now I could go back to my original plan, of attempting to move our lives forward once this was all over and done with, rather than right in the middle of everything.

Something was still bothering Cristian, however, and I was at a loss to figure out just what it was. So I got nosy and started a little investigation of my own – into Billy Flynn. Finding nobody in Little Bend who knew anything about Billy after he left town, I decided the best thing to do was ride to Abilene and start asking questions for myself. Which is what I did.

Somethin' told me to keep this trip quiet, so me and Doralice passed it off as a 'by invitation only' poker tournament. I went straight to the marshal's office as soon as I checked into the hotel, hoping that he'd be able to give me the information I needed. No such luck; he was brand new and had no information about killings five or six years ago. So I did the next best thing – I started checking with the bartenders at each of the saloons.

No luck at the first three I tried, but Mike Goulding was the bartender at the Abilene Lady. Mike and me go way back – he used to tend bar in Claytonville and I'd known him for years. "Well, as I live and breathe! Bart Maverick. What are you doin' here? Lookin' for a game? I heard you were stickin' pretty close to Little Bend these days, caught yourself that good lookin' blonde daughter of Maude Donovan's."

"You got it wrong, Mike. She caught me, and damn lucky I am, too. But I ain't lookin' for a poker game, I'm lookin' for information. You remember Billy Flynn?"

"Sure, kinda hard to forget Billy. Didn't come to a good end, did he?"

"Good end? I was told he was shot in a gunfight."

"That were no gunfight he ended up dead from."

"What happened? Really?"

"You mean you don't know? It was Maude Donovan's new husband that killed him. That Cristian de la Torres."

"What? Are you sure? Cristian is an attorney. I was best man at their weddin'. I can't imagine . . . Cristian don't even wear a gun."

"Bart, I ain't got no cause to lie to you. It was de la Torres, alright."

I felt like somebody had just taken all the wind out of my sails. "Pour me a coffee, Mike. And tell me everything you know about it."

"There ain't much to tell, cause I don't know much. Billy got into some kinda trouble and hired Torres to be his attorney. The attorney got him found not guilty at trial and two days later shot Flynn dead. That's all I got. Oh, Torres wasn't even arrested for the shooting, and less than a week later he left town."

"How long ago was that?"

"Let's see . . . six, seven, eight years ago. Maybe ten. Faces I remember. Time periods not so much."

"Anybody still in town that might remember more?" There had to be somebody that could give me more information.

"Yeah, try Della over at the courthouse. Tell her I sent you over to see her. She's got a memory like a beaver trap."

Taking Mike's advice, I headed for the courthouse. Della wasn't hard to spot. She was a big woman, with long gray hair and a pleasant smile. I would say she was in her fifties. I waited until I was the only one left to see her and introduced myself, explaining that Mike Goulding at the Abilene Lady sent me. "You must be alright then," she told me. "Mike's real particular about who he sends to see me."

"I've known Mike a long time. But the person I need some information about is Cristian de la Torres. I understand he killed Billy Flynn, and I need to find out what the story is."

"You know the attorney?" she asked cautiously.

"I was just best man at his wedding a little over four months ago in Little Bend. He married Maude Donovan. And I thought I knew him. But I don't know the man that killed Billy Flynn."

She watched me for a minute before giving me any kind of an answer. "I'm done here in another hour. Meet me across the street at the Golden Bird Café. Sit at the last table in the back. If you ain't there, I ain't waitin'." And she gave me another big smile.

XXXXXXXX

"You're right. The pie is outstanding." Della had highly recommended the apple pie to go with the coffee I ordered.

"Told you so." She smiled again and took another bite of her piece. "Now, Cristian told you what about Flynn?"

"That he was killed in a gunfight five or six years ago."

"Hmpf. Shoulda been hung. And it was Cristian's fault that he weren't."

I waited for Della to finish the story. I was willing to wait however long it took.

"Billy was drunk one night, as usual, and he grabbed one of the saloon girls over at Lulabelle's and hauled her out behind the saloon. He said he paid her and she agreed to . . . right there behind the place. She screamed and insisted she told him she didn't do things like that. He beat her up some and she went to the marshal. Now, if it was anybody else but Billy the marshal woulda patted her on her pretty little bottom and sent her back to Lulabelle's. But it was Billy, and like I said he beat her up some, and the marshal arrested him.

"Well, Billy got sober and he got himself a lawyer – Cristian de la Torres. Cristian didn't stand for things like what Billy was accused of, but Billy swore he was innocent. So Cristian defended him in court and won. Two nights later in the saloon, Billy got his hands on the same girl and dragged her out back. All the time she was yellin' "No, no, no!" was nobody payin' any attention to her. Except the attorney. By the time he found 'em Billy had half her clothes off and was beatin' on her while he tried to tear the rest of 'em off. Torres pulled out his gun and shot Billy dead."

It took me a minute or two to digest all this. "And Cristian never got arrested?"

"Nope."

"And a week later he left town?"

"Yep."

"How long ago was this?"

"Oh, let's see. Eight years ago, I think. He ain't in any trouble, is he?" The question was asked in a tone of genuine affection.

I shook my head. I didn't see any way that Cristian could be involved with Mr. Alexander, Esq. or the elusive Mr. Pike. "Nope, Della, Cristian de la Torres is clean as a whistle. And he's a happily married man."

"Well, good. I'm glad. Now, how about another piece of pie?"


	7. Luther Donovan

Chapter 6 – Luther Donovan

The incidents with Doralice and Cristian got me to thinking; both had happened quite a while ago. What was there in Maude's past that was going to come back to haunt her? Better yet, what was there in mine?

I wasn't gonna worry about mine right now, I was more concerned with Maude's. The time was passing too quickly, and we were running short on days to figure out who we were dealing with and how the 'fraud' was supposed to have come about. Time to have a chat with Maude.

But first, some unfinished business with Cristian. When I got back to Little Bend I went straight to his office. Josie, his part-time office girl, was at the front desk and sent me in to see him. He looked up from his paperwork with a big smile, and I hoped that I wouldn't wipe it off his face after we talked. "How was the poker game?"

I felt guilty giving him my answer. "There wasn't one, Cristian; I went to Abilene."

His face fell and resumed its normally somber expression. "Oh. Then you know about Billy."

I nodded. "And Della is thrilled that you're married and happy."

"Sweetest lady on the face of the earth."

"She thinks an awful lot of you," I told him.

"Yes, she was one of my biggest supporters."

"You don't wear a gun anymore," I pointed out.

"No, I don't. Billy's the biggest reason why."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'd never repeat anything you didn't want repeated. Besides, you didn't do anything wrong."

"That's what you and about half the town of Abilene believe. The other half believes I committed cold-blooded murder and got away with it."

"From what Della told me, you saved the girl's life. And John Law must have believed it, too, since there was no arrest."

"We all agreed," Cristian hesitated, "that the best thing for me to do was leave town. That's when I came here. Maude knows all this, by the way. I told her everything the first night she went out to dinner with me."

"Anybody else?"

"I was gettin' ready to tell Doralice. I thought she should know since I married her mother. And if you'd married Doralice by now . . . "

I chuckled. "I know, I know. It's on the agenda, believe me. Anyway, I sure can't see any connection between you and Mr. Pike. I'd like to talk to Maude if you don't mind."

He shook his head. "No, go right ahead. We don't keep any secrets from each other, and I don't think you'll find anything. She expects to hear from you, anyway."

Maudie tended to be two or three steps ahead of me and most everybody else at one time. So it was no surprise that she was expecting me. I waited until the next day to see her, and found her, as usual, in her office at the saloon.

"So, Cristian tells me you went to Abilene." She sat back in her chair and grinned at me.

"Yep. No need to look so smug."

"It was Cristian's story to tell, Bart, not mine."

"Thank you, Brother Bret." We both got a good laugh out of that one, as that was always one of Bret's favorite expressions.

"So now you're here to talk to me."

"Yep."

"I've got nothin' for you, Bart."

I raised an eyebrow and questioned her. "Nothin', Maude, nothin'? Think back to before you came to Little Bend. Anything back there?"

She shook her head. "Not unless it was somethin' when I was still married to Luther."

I think that was the first time she'd ever mentioned Donovan's name. "When was that?"

"Well, let's see. I left him when Doralice was seven years old. I shoulda divorced him, but I didn't. And he got killed . . . ten or eleven years later."

Something about those numbers had me thinking . . . if Doralice was seven when Maude left her husband . . . and died eleven years later . . . Doralice was eighteen when she ran away with Medina. Which happened while Maude was makin' a deal with Flynn . . . could this have somethin' to do with Luther Donovan? Somethin' I'd read in the original bill of sale between Billy and Maude was botherin' me . . . but I couldn't tell you exactly what it was. I needed to see the paperwork that Cristian had again.

"Bart . . . Bart, did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, Maude, what did you say?"

"I said, Luther was long gone by the time I bought the property from Billy."

"There's a difference between long gone and dead, Maude. Which was it?"

"It was . . . it was . . . " she picked up her brandy glass. It was empty, and as she poured herself another, I could see her mind working. "By God, I don't know. I might have somethin' at the house that tells me. When you and Doralice come in tonight, you can take me home and I'll look to see what I've got. Alright with you?"

"Yeah, sure. Cristian in court today?" Like I said before, I needed to see that bill of sale one more time.

"No, not that I know of. He should be at the office all day. You need to see him for somethin'?"

"Not him," I answered carefully. "The bill of sale." I leaned across the desk and kissed her cheek, then headed for the door. Maude's face wore a startled expression, but I didn't give her a chance to say anything.

I headed straight for Maude's old house. I hadn't seen my girl since I got back from Abilene, and spending time with her was way overdue. Especially since we were workin' at Maude's tonight, and it would be morning before we'd have any time alone again. "Doralice," I called as I came through the door.

"In the bedroom," she called back.

"Perfect. Don't move." She met me at the bedroom door, and once again I was taken aback by how absolutely beautiful she was. What I wanted was one thing; what I'd hurried over here to try and find out was, unfortunately, something else. That didn't stop me from gathering her into my arms and kissing her like my life depended on it. Because, of course, it did.

"I need to ask you a question," I managed to say before those perfect lips of hers met mine again.

"You're no fun," she pouted, as I gritted my teeth. I'd much rather keep kissing her then start cross-examining her, especially about the subject in front of me.

"I know, and right now I completely agree with you. But I need some information, and you may be the only one that can get it for me."

"Alright, Detective Maverick. What do you need to know?"

"Who really killed your father, and when did it happen?"


	8. Dead Men Tell No Tales

Chapter 7 – Dead Men Tell no Tales

Doralice pulled out of my arms and backed away from me. "Wh-wha-what? Who killed my father? Is that what you're askin' me?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry . . . yes. Who killed your father?"

"Why, Bart?"

"I'm tryin' to get to the bottom of this grab that Jedidiah Pike is makin' for Maude's."

"And this has somethin' to do with my father?" There was pain in her voice, the kind of pain that only a child that loses a parent much too young knows.

I shook my head. "I can't guarantee that, honey. But it looks like it might."

Doralice backed away from me and sat down abruptly on the bed. Her voice grew soft with tears. "Daddy. I think about him all the time. It's been so long since he was killed. Who's doin' this to us? And why?"

"I don't know, honey, but I'm tryin' to find out. Do you know who killed him?"

"Mama said . . . mama said it was Sam Winston."

Sam Winston . . . again that name. The man that disappeared, the man that went back to New York, changed his name and created a whole new life. The same Sam Winston that Billy Flynn owed money to. The man that killed Maude Donovan's card cheat husband. Was Sam Winston Jedidiah Pike? And if he was, what did he want with Maude's? Especially this many years later?

"Do you know when it happened?"

"Huh?" She looked up at me, my beautiful aqua eyed blonde, and she looked confused, unnerved, distraught. I couldn't blame her. I felt the same way when Pappy told me the story of him and momma. "I don't . . . I'm not sure. Sometime before I ran away with Sergio. Did you ask Maude?"

I sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her close. It seemed like it had been one punch after another since this started for the woman I loved, and all I wanted to do right now was comfort her. "I did, and she can't remember exactly. I'm gonna take her home tonight so she can check with some records she's got there. Said she's probably got somethin' that'll tell us just when . . ."

"What . . . what has all this got to do with the ownership of Maude's? And what did you find out in Abilene?"

Now I was in a predicament. I wanted to answer her question about Abilene, but Maude had it right. It wasn't my story to tell. "I found out what happened to Billy Flynn. There's some legal complications involved, and I'm not sure if it has anything to do with this situation or not."

She kind of chuckled. At least she wasn't crying anymore. "In other words, you can't tell me right now."

I did my best to look sheepish. "You're right, I can't. But there's somethin' you should know, and Cristian can explain everything. Might not be a bad idea to go see him as soon as possible."

She gave me the oddest look, but nodded anyway. "Alright. I can go now, unless you have somethin' else in mind."

I had plenty in mind, but now wasn't the time. "No, it's probably best if you go see Cristian." I stood and gathered her into my arms. "But don't make any plans after we close Maude's in the mornin'. I want nothin' better than to come back here and share a pot of coffee with you." I kissed her then, and it was all I could do not to keep kissing her.

XXXXXXXX

"You understand why I couldn't explain what happened in Abilene?" Doralice and me were on our way to Maude's when I asked the question. She'd come back from talking to Cristian and was quiet, but not angry or upset.

"I do. He explained the whole thing to me. It still bothers him, even to this day. Maybe now that the people he cares about all know what happened, he can find some peace."

"I hope. Cristian's a good man, and it's time he let the past be the past."

She looked at me hopefully. "He's not the only one." Before I could ask her what she meant, we'd gotten to the saloon. Maude was waiting for us, and I exchanged one Donovan beauty for another. We went straight to the little house that she and Cristian had purchased.

"How about if I put on a pot of coffee before I start my search?"

Real, honest to goodness coffee sounded good. "I can do that,Maude, why don't you get started?"

Twenty minutes later we were drinking coffee while Maude went through all the documents she had at the house. "Why don't you put these in Cristian's safe?" I asked while pouring us both more coffee.

"Oh, you know. There's just some things . . . some things you don't wanna share."

I thought about how many years I'd carried Caroline's picture around with me. Maude was right, even though I loved her daughter with all my heart, it was a long time before I could let go of Caroline's ghost. "He told Doralice about Abilene this afternoon."

She nodded her head. "I figured you'd send her to see him."

"Yeah, it wasn't my story to tell, either." I paused for a minute. "She feels bad for him, that he's still carryin' around such a load of guilt after all this time."

Maude nodded again. "That's my little girl . . . well, not such a little girl anymore, I guess. Ah, here it is." She pulled out an old newspaper clipping from the small pile of papers in front of her. It gave a brief account of the gunfight and listed the dead man as 'Luther Donovan, businessman' and the other party involved as 'Sam Winston, gambler.' The date of the paper was some ten years ago, and it was from Dodge City, Kansas. It also stated that the gunfight had been ruled self-defense and no charges would be filed.

I handed her the clipping. "You sure this is accurate?"

Maude read it over. "That's all I ever got – the newspaper sent it to me. Why? Is there something wrong?"

I hadn't gotten back to Cristian's office to look at the original bill of sale; he was a little busy with Doralice. "I don't know. There's somethin' botherin' me, but I can't place it yet. I'm goin' back to the saloon for the night. I need to think on this one. Thanks for the coffee, Maude."

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Take care of my girl, would you, Marshal Emory?"

"I'm doin' my best, Maude. I'm doin' my best."


	9. An Unexpected Journey

Chapter 8 – An Unexpected Journey

By the time we closed up Maude's that night, I was exhausted. I'm pretty sure from the way Doralice looked, she was too. "Are you sure this is what we wanna do with the rest of our lives?" I asked her as we stumbled into the house.

"I don't know," was the answer I got from her as she collapsed down onto the settee. "Have we ever been this busy before?"

"I'm sure we must have, but I just can't remember when," came my reply as I lowered myself gently next to her. I stifled a yawn. "We were gonna have coffee when we came home tonight."

"I know. I think we better have some real coffee first." We both kind of giggled. "I'll get up in five minutes and make some." It was her turn to yawn. "I promise."

"Sounds good to me." That was the last thing I remember until several hours later. I woke up cramped, sore and stiff, with Doralice in my arms, both of us sprawled across the settee. We'd never made it to either kind of coffee.

I got my bearings and picked her up gently. She looked like an angel, and for just a moment I had a flash back to a memory from a long time ago. One of me picking up Caroline and carrying her up a staircase to my bedroom, the one and only time we were ever together. I shook my head and the memory faded. This was the here and now, and the woman in my arms was alive and breathtaking. She stirred and murmured something as I lay her gently on the bed, and I bent down to catch her words.

"Don't you dare leave," she whispered in my ear as she pulled me down next to her. And everyone and everything except the aqua eyed blonde in my arms faded into the past, and I knew that I would never let this angel go.

XXXXXXXX

The smell of coffee, actual coffee, is what woke me, finally. It was several hours later and I yawned and stretched, much as I had that last morning long ago, but this time there were no worries about anyone trying to kill us. "Are you awake in there?" I heard from the kitchen. "Coffee's ready."

"Soon as I get some clothes on," I called back, and scrambled to get dressed. Not only was coffee ready, there were eggs and bacon and biscuits, and the most perfect looking face I'd ever seen.

"Well, where are you going off to this morning?" Doralice asked as we ate breakfast.

I was almost in a daze from last night, or maybe I should say this morning. "Hmmm? Oh, this morning. I have to go to Cristian's and read over that court order again. There's somethin' in there I've missed and I've got to find it." I took another bite and waved a piece of bacon at her. "Good thing you don't do this every morning. I'd be as fat as Bret." My brother Bret was NOT fat.

"I can think of ways to work off any excess energy you might have," she grinned at me as she leaned over her plate. Damn, this was the woman I thought I'd never find. Her idea of a good time was to spend the day in bed. And I don't mean sleeping. We could be in serious trouble.

It was almost two hours later before I left the house, headed for Cristian's office. Josie told me he had a client in with him and I decided to wait. Within fifteen minutes Dave Parker came barrelin' out of there and went past me without even so much as a 'hello.' That was rather unusual for Dave, but I chalked it up to 'professional discourtesy.' Parker liked to harass me about all the times I'd played lawman in one capacity or another.

"Go on in, Bart," Josie urged, and I did just that.

Cristian was behind his desk but got up, and we shook hands. "Sorry to drop Doralice like that on you, but she was askin' me questions I wasn't gonna answer."

"It's alright, at least that's out of the way now."

"Uh, Parker bein' here isn't anything we should be worried about, is it?"

He took a long time to answer, and I didn't catch it. "No."

I sat down. "I hate to bother you, but I need to see both the original bill of sale and the court order turning Maude's over to Jedidiah Milford Pike. I'd like to just drag this chair into a corner and go over everything again."

"You think of something that you missed before? I know that was bothering you."

"Nope. But I'm not leavin' here until I've figured it out."

That elicited a sly grin out of Cristian. "Bring your bedroll?"

I laughed. "Hey, you're gettin' better at those jokes. No, I'm not spending the night here. How long's Josie gonna be here today? And can I use her desk? Or maybe I should ask, can we lock the front door while I use her desk?"

Cristian nodded, pleased with himself for throwing a joke at me that I actually laughed at. "Josie's just about to leave for the day, and I have a deed to write. So yes you may use her desk, and yes we will lock the front door."

Thirty minutes later I was sittin' in the front office reading over the bill of sale when I spotted what I was looking for. At least what I saw triggered something else in my head, and I switched my focus to the court order delivered to Maude. I read it through and went to ask Cristian what a particular phrase meant. He gave me the answer I expected, and I sat down in front of his desk again. "Uh, Bart . . . "

"Stop working on that deed, Cristian. There's somethin' you need to do."

"Can't it wait till I'm done here?"

"Not if we've got a prayer of beatin' Jedidiah Pike. It says here in the court order that Maude's got the right to request her adversary's physical presence at the thirty-day deadline meeting, and if the time period has to be extended to accommodate her request, the court must be notified by the twenty-day mark. That would be tomorrow. That gives you time to make the request.

"Wire the court that issued this order and politely insist on Mr. Pike's presence in court."

Cristian looked alarmed. "But if he's in New York, he'll never get here by the court date."

"I don't believe he's in New York. I think he's a lot closer. And even if he's not, the court will be forced by its own language to grant whatever time he needs to get here."

"What good will that do?"

"There's somethin' I need to find out, and I have to go to Dodge City to do it. I can make it there and back, but I sure could use the extra time. This extension of time might give it to me. And if I don't get it, I'll just have to figure out a way. I know what I'm dealin' with now, and if I'm right, Maude can beat this whole thing."

The expression on Cristian's face had slowly changed from one of disbelief and doubt to complete acceptance. He gathered the deed he'd been working on into a neat pile and copied down all the pertinent information off of the court order, then handed me a key. "Will you need to leave before I get back? If you do, put the paperwork in the safe and lock the door behind you."

"Probably. Thanks for not askin' any more questions. I'm not sure I could explain it without the proof in Dodge City."

"Bart, there's something you need to know. That visit from Sheriff Parker – you asked me a question and I didn't give you a truthful answer. I couldn't then, and I shouldn't now, but it looks like it's something you need to know."

I was momentarily confused. "Alright. What's this all about?"

"The cowboy that tried to shoot you when Maude and I were gone to Tucson? Did you ever wonder just what his name was?"

I shook my head. "Never gave it any thought. He was just a drunken cowboy."

"No, he wasn't. His name was LeRoy Donovan."


	10. Baby Steps

Chapter 9 – Baby Steps

"LeRoy Donovan? Any relation?"

Cristian nodded. "Maude's brother-in-law; Luther's younger brother. He was just a kid when Maude and Luther were married. She had no idea it was LeRoy that got drunk and rowdy in the saloon. Since we were out of town his name never came up when the sheriff told us about what happened."

"What triggered the revelation today?"

"I don't know." The attorney looked as perplexed as I felt. "Must have been something, but Parker never said, and I didn't think to ask. Seems awful suspicious to find out now, doesn't it?"

"I should say so. Maude hasn't heard from LeRoy in all these years?"

"Not a word. She tried to find him once or twice after Luther died, but never had any luck. How ironic that he finally shows up when we're out of town."

That threw a whole new light on things, and made me more certain than ever that I needed to go to Dodge City. "Thanks for the information, Cristian. Go take care of that telegram. I've got a stage coach to catch."

XXXXXXXX

"An uncle? That was my Uncle LeRoy that tried to kill you?"

One more unexpected blow in this never-ending nightmare that seemed to be plaguing the Donovan's. "Unfortunately," was the only answer I could give Doralice. "You understand why I have to go to Dodge?"

She nodded. "I can't say that I like it, but I understand it." She was silent for a minute while I threw some clothes in my warbag. "You know, when I was bein' drug across Mexico to be hanged, I kept thinkin' that what little life I had left to me would probably be easier if I just gave up, and gave the Captain what he wanted." What he'd wanted, of course, was Doralice. "But somehow I couldn't. Somethin' kept me fighting, holdin' out for a hero, I guess. And then you came along, with that phony badge and that cocky walk. And somewhere along the way back to Texas I found what I was lookin' for." She paused for a moment. "And I never did tell you, but you're still my hero. And I still need you. So you be careful, and come back to me, no matter what you find in Dodge. Cause you're always gonna be my hero."

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me, and it was the sweetest, most tender kiss she'd ever given me. And I hurried and finished packing, because if I didn't leave right now I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

XXXXXXXX

Stagecoach to train to stagecoach again, and four days later I was in Dodge City, Kansas. It didn't look like it had changed much since the last time I'd been there, and I gathered my bag and headed straight for the marshal's office.

Sandy Nash was the marshal, and he was about my age. I introduced myself and offered to buy him breakfast so that I could explain why I was there without being interrupted. He agreed, and we went to the Dodge House for a private conversation.

"And that's the whole story, at least as far as I know it."

He took another sip of coffee before replying. "That's quite some tale, Mr. Maverick."

"Bart, please, marshal."

"I'm not promising anything, but we can go back to the office and check the records. Our last two marshals have been real thorough about keepin' old reports, especially about somethin' that would have been as newsworthy as that gun fight."

"Is the Dodge City Herald still in business?"

Nash nodded. "It is."

"Mary Clennon still own it?" Now I was going back in time, to when I was sure that Brother Bret had been shot, killed, and buried in Dodge on Boot Hill.

"You mean Mary Hillis? No, she and Chris sold the paper and left for California about three years ago."

That answered my question and I smiled. Chris Hillis had been marshal and Mary had owned and run the newspaper, and when me and Bret left Dodge it looked like the two of them would end up together. I was pleased to hear they had.

"If you don't mind, I'll go back to your office with you and see what you can find."

I followed him back to the jail, and he spent the next three hours lookin' through the old reports. Just when we were both about to give up he found what he was lookin' for, and it was a whole lot more detailed than the newspaper report had been. For the first time I had at least partial physical descriptions of Luther Donovan and Sam Winston.

I thanked Marshal Nash for his help and the information and made my way to the Herald's offices. There I was lucky enough to locate two follow-up stories to the brief clipping that was sent to Maude, and I wrote down all the pertinent details that hadn't appeared in the one she received.

I had almost three hours until the stage left, and there was something that I needed to do. I rented a horse from the livery and rode out to Boot Hill. In the time since I'd been there last, the cemetery size had more than doubled. It took me some time, but I found the grave Bret was supposedly buried in. The marker on the grave simply said 'Unknown,' and I remembered the first time I'd seen it when it read 'Bret Maverick.' One more time I closed my eyes and whispered thanks that my brother was alive and not buried in that plot of ground.

I made my way back to town and waited for the stage. All I had to do was get back to Little Bend in time for the hearing.


	11. The Good, the Bad, and the New

Chapter 10 – The Good, the Bad, and the New

I got back to Little Bend with two days to spare before the hearing at which Maude was supposed to turn over the saloon to Jedidiah Pike. It was early afternoon, and I went straight to Cristian's office. He wasn't in, but Josie expected him any minute, and I chose to wait. I was warmly greeted when Cristian came through the door. "Bart, you made it! Come on in the office. Josie, can you go over to the café and get us all some coffee?"

"I don't think you're gonna be that happy to see me when I tell you what I found in Dodge."

"Oh dear, that bad?"

I shook my head. "Yes and no. Great news for Maude keepin' the saloon. But I've got other news that ain't gonna sit so well."

"For Maude?"

"For Maude, for Doralice . . . even for you."

"Me?"

I nodded. "Let's wait until Josie gets back from the café."

We were settled in with hot coffee when I started telling Cristian what I'd found in Dodge, both at the marshal's office and at the newspaper. When I was done, Cristian looked like someone had torn him in half – Maude's attorney was happy with the things he'd heard, Maude's husband not so much.

"Has Pike arrived in town yet?"

"Not that I know of. I guess I better sit down with Maude and explain everything you told me . . . tonight. To be safe, that is. I'd hate to have her find out any other way."

"Don't forget to give her the good news, too. That's important. Everything ain't perfect, but she's gonna win the biggest battle. And the rest of it can be . . . corrected."

"I'll keep all that in mind. I can't believe everything you've done to get to the bottom of this. We'd be in a real mess if you hadn't stepped in."

I stood up to go. "Speaking of being in a mess . . . I'm not gonna tell Doralice until we close the saloon tonight. So in case Maude gets the idea to come talk . . . tell her not to."

"I will. Take care of her girl . . . why am I telling you that? I know you will."

I took my time walking back to Doralice's house, thinking the whole way just how I was gonna explain all this to her. There was no easy way; no matter how I put it, my woman was gonna take another punch. And this one was major.

I slipped inside and closed the door quietly, but it wasn't quiet enough. Within seconds Doralice was wrapped around me and in my arms, and she held on like she hadn't seen me for months. Maybe she knew there was painful news coming, maybe she just sensed somethin' wrong.

"I'm so glad you're back. I was gettin' worried."

"I'm here." It was hard to sound enthusiastic when I knew I was probably gonna break her heart.

"What's wrong? What did you find out?"

"Let's wait until we've closed Maude's tonight," I suggested, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew she'd never go for that.

"No. I want to know now. I'm not a child, Bart, or some fragile thing made of glass. I want you to tell me everything."

"Alright. Let's at least sit down, and I'll tell you the whole story."

"Wait – I've got coffee on the stove."

For once I didn't think coffee was such a good idea. "No, leave it there."

She sat next to me, and I took her hands in mine. "I've got good and bad news. It involves your father." She looked startled but said nothing. "He's not dead, Doralice."

"He's . . . but Mama told me . . . "

"That's what the marshal and the newspaper in Dodge City told her. They were wrong. There was a gunfight between him and Sam Winston, and your father managed to kill Winston. He switched wallets with the dead man before help arrived, and they were close enough in physical description that nobody questioned their identities." I stopped to let Doralice absorb what I'd told her. She was trembling, but her eyes were dry.

"Go on," she told me softly.

"That's probably why he went to New York, where his reputation preceded him, and no one dare challenge the great gunfighter. He made quite a fortune posing as Winston." She pulled her hands away from mine and rested them in her lap. "Then LeRoy died here in Little Bend and he must have decided to take revenge."

"But how? Revenge for what?"

"For his brother's death. Or maybe for Maude leaving him all those years ago. The contract to sell the land was worded rather oddly; maybe the attorney was told how to write it. It referred to both of them as 'not obligated in any way to any person or persons not named in this contract.' By signing it, your mother swore she wasn't married – because she thought Luther was dead."

"So that's where the fraud charge comes from."

"Exactly. Flynn owed Sam Winston – or the man he thought was Sam Winston – and if he couldn't sell the property, ownership defaulted to that man. So if the sale was found to be fraudulent . . ."

"Luther Donovan would own the land that Maude's was built on."

"Yes."

"But how can we stop him?"

"Cristian sent a wire to the court that issued the order, requesting that Jedidiah Pike be present at the thirty-day hearing. The court agreed with the request. Your father will be at the hearing day after tomorrow. And we can prove he's Luther Donovan, and not Sam Winston, who's the only man with a right to bring suit against your mother."

"Oh." She sat very quietly and very still, and I wasn't sure she'd heard me. I tried again.

"Honey, Luther will be at the hearing."

She nodded dazedly. "I heard you."

"You don't have to go."

She looked up at me, and there was something I recognized. Fire and defiance were in her eyes, and there was something else. Something I'd seen the first time she looked at me in Mexico. Pure hatred.

"Yes, I do."


	12. Revelations

Chapter 11 – Revelations

I don't think Doralice said two words to me all night. She did nod her head once, and I spent the whole night wondering if it was her father or me she was mad at. It wasn't until she hooked her arm through mine on the way home that I was sure it wasn't me. "You alright?"

"No," she answered, and then changed her mind. "I'm better than I was. I can't imagine . . . a father that would cause his child that kind of pain . . . for what? Money? A different life? What?"

"I can't answer that, Doralice. I know I sure couldn't do it."

"You're not that kind of man. I've seen you with kids; you love 'em and they're not even yours. You'll be a great father, I just know it."

She was right about that. I've always had a soft spot for the little ones, especially the girls. They're so sweet, so pure – I can't imagine a father that could abandon his little girl. That's why my heart was broken over Doralice's pain.

"I hope so." I didn't see it then, but Doralice smiled. We'd barely talked about marriage . . . we'd never talked about children. If she could see inside my heart – I loved 'em all, and wanted a whole passel of 'em. That would probably scare her to death.

"Does Maude know yet?"

"Yeah, Cristian was gonna tell her tonight."

The thought struck both of us at the same time. "They're not married."

"And she's gonna hafta divorce Donovan to get married legally," I pointed out.

Doralice muttered something that I didn't hear, and I asked her to repeat it. "Or kill him," she stated grimly.

"Knowing Maude, she's already thought about that and decided it wasn't worth it."

My beautiful blonde shook her head. "You don't know how much she suffered when she finally took me and left him. Us Donovan's tend to loveferociously, fair warning."

We stopped right there, at the front door to the house, and I pulled her into my arms. She offered no resistance. "So do us Maverick's."

XXXXXXXX

Voices were what woke me the next morning. Voices that I couldn't identify at first. A woman's voice, full of loathing and rage. "I can't kill him, remember? He's already dead." I thought about it for a minute and realized it was Maude.

"That's not funny. How do you think I feel about it? I waited my whole life for you, and he's just stolen you out from under me." That was Cristian, with an emotion in his voice that I'd never heard from him before – anger.

"Shhhh, you two, Bart's still asleep. Have some respect." Now that one I knew immediately.

"No, he's not anymore," I called out while I pulled pants on over my long johns. I'd gotten down to my underwear last night and gone no further. Much as there were things other than sleeping that I was interested in, Doralice thought I needed the rest more. Obviously she was right, since I remembered nothing past lying down while I waited for her to come to bed.

"Maude, Cristian, Beautiful," I greeted the three of them as I made my appearance. Doralice held a cup of coffee out for me, and I took it gratefully. "You must be talkin' about Luther . . . or Jedidiah. Which one is he legally, Cristian?"

That seemed to settle Cristian down a bit. "Legally, he's still Luther Donovan. There might have been a Jedidiah Pike, but it's not him."

"And how are the proceedings going to go tomorrow?"

Cristian sighed, but I'm sure he knew I was trying to defuse the situation. "The court clerk will read the original petition and the decision that awarded ownership of the property to Pike. That's when the judge will ask if there is any evidence to show why the order should be vacated and the decision reversed. That's when I will be allowed to present my case."

"And you feel there should be no problem with our evidence or witnesses?"

"I don't see how there could be." The reasonable, clear-headed attorney was back in place of the hot-headed almost-husband.

"I have a question, my love," Maude was much more restrained than before, and I feared there was still a storm brewing. I didn't have to wait long to find out. "Do I shoot him before or after I win the case?"

"Mother!"

Maude spat out through gritted teeth, "I have every right. He's hurt every single person in this family, and for what? Why would he do a thing like that? Is he crazy?"

She'd asked the very question running through my head. "Very possibly, Maude. I suppose we're just gonna hafta wait and see."

It's hard to stay angry when no one around you is angry, and Maude finally settled down. It was Doralice I was most worried about. She was calm and steady, but there was an undercurrent that I couldn't quite place. Somewhere between extreme relief and unbridled hate, she was as controlled as I'd ever heard her. "Do we all need to be there?" I asked Cristian.

Cristian looked directly at Doralice. "No."

I nodded. "The ladies can stay away?"

I didn't get the answer I was hoping for. "No, Maude has to be there."

"But not Doralice?"

"No, Doralice doesn't have to be in court."

Very quietly from the kitchen I heard, "Yes, I do have to be there. I have to see him. I have to be able to look him in the eye and make him feel small. It's important to me."

It only took me a minute. "Then you will be." I might still try to talk her out of it, but the final decision was hers. She was a grown woman, but she was the woman I loved, and I didn't wanna see her hurt any more than she already had been.

"Maude's will be closed tomorrow. That way nobody has to think about work. I want this skunk taken care of, and then we can go on with our lives." Maude turned to her attorney, her lover, her should-be husband. "And get married all over again."

Cristian smiled. Then groaned. The rest of us laughed.


	13. Do You See Me?

Chapter 12 – Do You See Me?

I didn't try to talk Doralice out of going to court; if it was that important to her I wasn't about to interfere. I was still worried about her, but all I was willing to do was watch and wait.

Court day was overcast and gray, a perfect day for the mood everyone was in. Doralice had fallen asleep in my arms somewhere around five in the morning; I lay in bed and held her, wide awake. It had been a long time since I'd spent the night unable to sleep. You'd be surprised what an armful of beautiful woman does to ease your mind. Not this night, though, so I lay there and listened to her breathing. It was a comforting sound, and I was sorry when I finally had to move, and it woke her.

"Is it time?" she murmured softly.

"No, darlin', not yet. Go back to sleep." She rolled away from me then, and a few minutes later I eased myself out of bed and went to the kitchen to make coffee. When it was done I poured a cup and walked out to the front porch, where I drank my coffee and smoked a cigar while watching the sun try and fail to come up.

Funny the things you think of when you're trying to think of nothing. The first time I skipped a stone across the river. How odd it was to watch Miss Melody grow fat, as her kittens and their kittens played around her in the sun. What it was like to finally know what you wanted out of life, and to find you're not too old to go after it.

When I walked back in the house, Doralice was pouring herself some coffee. "Refill?" she asked and held the pot out for me.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Why aren't you still asleep?"

"Why aren't you?"

I chuckled a little. "I never was."

"How long was I . . . ?"

"Couple hours, maybe. Doralice . . . "

"Yes, lover?"

She hadn't called me that in quite a while. "You don't have to go to court today."

There was silence for a minute. "I know that."

"But you still want to?"

"Yes."

I nodded. There was nothin' else for me to say. "I'm gonna go . . . shave."

"Do you want breakfast before we go?"

"No. Coffee's good."

We were ready to leave for court much too early, and we left the house and walked down to Maude's. There were lights on inside, and I knew we weren't the only ones who couldn't sleep. Doralice used her keys, and we were soon sittin' at a table with Maude, drinking more coffee. "Cristian wanted to go over everything one more time, so he'll meet us in court at nine o'clock."

"Are you nervous?" My lady asked her mother.

"No, I'm angry. I want to see his face when he sees us for the first time. I want him to know that he's finally been caught after all these years, and it was us that caught him. I want . . . I just want it to be time to go."

I had to ask. "Do you still want to kill him?"

Maude didn't hesitate; she shook her head. "Not anymore. I just wanna see the look in his eyes when he knows he's lost."

There was one more that needed to answer the same question. "Do you?"

And my beautiful woman, the woman I intended to ask to marry me when this had all calmed down, answered in a way that sent a chill up my spine. "Yes."

XXXXXXXX

The little courthouse on Main Street was virtually empty. This was no big criminal trial, after all, just a small civil suit that nobody was interested in except the people involved in it. Cristian was there to greet us a few minutes before nine, as promised, and Zebulon Eustus Alexander, Esq. was already seated in the courtroom, but there was no sign of anyone else. At exactly one minute to nine, the outer doors opened and a tall, rather elegant looking man walked in. He appeared to be at least ten years older than Maude and used a cane, walking quite slowly to the table Attorney Alexander was seated at. The man stared straight ahead and his gaze never wavered, even when he seated himself next to his attorney.

"Is that Donovan?" Cristian whispered softly to Maude.

"I . . . I . . . don't . . . know. I haven't seen him in over ten years. He's older, grayer, heavier. I just . . . "

There was no doubt in Doralice. "It's him," she hissed. "I'd know him anywhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

I gripped her hand tightly, and she was once again shaking. "Why doesn't he look at us?"

I wondered the same thing. Donovan, or Pike, whoever he was, refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, or sideways at his attorney. When the judge finally entered the court, Donovan's stare never wavered. It seemed like he knew we were all watching him, and he refused to give us the satisfaction of a return gaze. Either that or everything I had dug up was wrong, and Jedidiah Milford Pike really was Sam Winston.

Zebulon presented his case, and it was well-documented. According to him, Sam Winston won the property from Lester O'Day, but did nothing with it for years. He then lost the same piece of land the same way to Billy Flynn.

Next, the bill of sale between Flynn and Maude was presented, with the acknowledgment by Cristian that this was, indeed, the original bill of sale. Alexander then pointed out the odd language written into the agreement, stating that each party was 'not obligated in any way to any person or persons not named in this contract.' Meaning, in essence, that a marriage of any sort would invalidate the contract.

Pike's attorney then presented evidence that Maude had been married to one Luther Donovan, and that Donovan was killed in a gunfight with Sam Winston prior to her agreement with Flynn. That's when Attorney Alexander presented something new to the court, something that was just beginning to gain popularity on the East Coast – a Death Certificate. It attested that Donovan was not killed until after the property was sold to Maude, who was thus a married woman. The transaction was invalidated, and the bill of sale fraudulent.

Then it was Cristian's turn. I'd managed to get certified court documents from both the United States Federal Marshals Office and the Dodge City Herald that proved the Death Certificate for Luther Donovan was forged. The date of the gunfight and subsequent death of Luther Donovan preceded the sale of the property to Maude Donovan, thus making her purchase legal.

The court recessed for lunch while the judge verified the validity of the court certified documents. Pike and his attorney hurried from the courthouse, to plan a new strategy, no doubt, because even I could see that they were gonna need one. If the judge in Little Bend was satisfied with the answers he got from Denver about the certified documents, Maude would win the day with no further problems. If he wasn't, then all we had to do was prove it was Sam Winston that died in the shootout, and that Jedidiah Milford Pike was actually Luther Donovan, who had no standing in this case.

Somehow Pike and his attorney managed to escape the court house without making eye contact with anyone on our side of the room. Doralice was incensed, and Maude didn't seem much happier. Cristian took Maude out the side door and headed towards the saloon; Doralice and me stayed right where we were. "Do you want some lunch?" I asked her, even though I was certain of the answer.

She shook her head and stared at me. "I despise him." The look of hatred that had shown in her eyes the day before could now be heard in her voice. "He can't even look at us, and he's my father."

"How can you be so sure it's really him, Doralice?" I wasn't tryin' to be difficult, I just didn't understand. She was seven years old the last time she saw him, and he had to look completely different.

"I just feel it, Bart. I know it's Luther."

"It's not gonna do any good to make yourself sick over it."

"I'm alright. I'll be fine as soon as I know I never have to look at him again."

Something in the way she said it put my whole body on edge. What was I afraid she had in mind?


	14. Speechless

Chapter 13 – Speechless

Since Doralice didn't want anything to eat and I wasn't about to leave her sitting in an empty courthouse, we spent the lunch break in the same spot we'd spent the entire morning. I got her to do some talking about her father, telling me some of the things she remembered about him. It wasn't easy at first, but the more she told me, the more she opened up about him, and the less tense she seemed.

From everything she said, he seemed like a decent enough father. He taught her to ride and to play poker, and tucked her in bed at night when he was home. It sounded like she had nothing but loving memories of him, until the day that Maude packed up their belongings and moved out. She only saw him once after that, in Houston, and he seemed distracted and standoffish . . . not at all the father she remembered.

Cristian and Maude finally returned, and Maude seemed to be in a better mood. I assumed that Cristian had made sure she had enough brandy to calm her down, and when she kissed me on the cheek my assumption seemed confirmed. "You didn't go anywhere?" Cristian asked, and I shook my head no.

"She wouldn't leave," I whispered back, just as Pike and Alexander returned. I felt Doralice stiffen up next to me and I took hold of her hand. She glanced up at me and managed a small smile.

"Court is in session," the clerk declared, and the judge resumed his place on the bench. He began by reviewing all the evidence presented and continued by reading the wires he'd sent to Denver to confirm the information he'd been given. It was technical and dull, and no sleep last night made it difficult to stay awake and alert. I have to admit I sort of drifted into a state that could be called 'dozing' and might have remained there, but the judge said something that brought Doralice into a heightened state of attention, and I felt her stiffen beside me. I began paying close attention to the judge.

" . . . therefore I declare that the Death Certificate presented to this court is, at the least inaccurate, at the most a forgery, and invalid. Luther Donovan's original date of death stands, and the order to forfeit said property to Jedidiah Pike is rescinded. Mrs. Donovan, you retain ownership of the land and the building thereon known as Maude's. Court is adjourned."

Maude and Cristian hugged each other, and I felt Doralice sag slightly against me. Zebulon Alexander, Esq. rose from his seat and prepared to leave the courtroom; Jedidiah Pike had slumped in his seat when the decision was read, but gathered himself and stood. For the first time he was forced to face our side of the room, and locked eyes with Maude for just a moment before he began to make his way out of the courthouse. Doralice quickly stood and pushed her way past me, and stepped into his path. He looked right through her, as if she wasn't there, and walked around her. That's when I saw it – my derringer in her right hand, as she pulled it out of her purse.

Something made Pike stop with his back towards her. That's when she spoke. "Luther Donovan." He said nothing for a minute, then took a step forward. "Father."

Pike turned to face her. I began to slowly inch my way towards her, hoping to get close enough to take the Remington away from her. So far the gun was only visible to Pike, Doralice, and me. My whole life was standin' in front of me with a gun in her hand, ready to kill the man she'd just called father. I couldn't lose her . . .

"Doralice." It was the first word any of us had heard Pike speak.

She never flinched, bless her, even though other women might have. Her eyes were fixed on him, and I knew what she was gonna ask him before she opened her mouth. "Why?"

He shook his head. "I honestly don't know. An opportunity presented itself, and I took advantage of it. But I'm not your father. I gave up the right to be called that the day I became Sam Winston. Put the gun away, girl. You won't be hurting anyone but yourself. And I'm not worth dying over."

I was close enough now to take the gun from her hands, and she let me. I shoved it in my coat pocket and rested my hand on her arm. She shifted her gaze to me; there were tears in her eyes.

"Let's go home, beautiful. There's nothin' for us here."

She looked at me for a long moment before nodding. "You're right," she murmured. "Nothing."

I put my arm around her shoulders and walked her outside before I took another breath. In just a minute Pike followed us, then walked down the boardwalk to the buggy that was tied up there. He got in and started down the street in it, without looking back.

"I could have killed him," she said out loud.

"But you didn't," I replied.

She shook her head gently. "No, I didn't."

XXXXXXXX

The four of us were sittin' at a table at Maude's. The front doors were open and Randy was behind the bar, but there were only three or four people in the place besides us. Maude had decided to open the saloon, even though she'd been against it, earlier. We'd been quiet and relieved that it was all over, drinking brandy as a sort of release valve to sooth our nerves.

"What now?" The question was from the owner herself.

"Maude, honey, will you marry me?" Cristian asked without any prompting.

Maude chuckled. "Haven't we already done that?"

"But it was so much fun, we should do it again."

"What about my already bein' married?"

"That won't be hard to take care of," her attorney told her. "You were abandoned more than ten years ago. We can have the marriage dissolved in thirty days."

"In that case, my answer's yes," Maude replied.

"A toast, to the bride and groom to be," Doralice proposed, and it was the first time I'd seen her smile since we left the court.

And while we toasted, I started thinkin'. Or, should I say, I resumed thinkin'. I thought it was about time that I took a ride out to talk to Pappy. I was about to make him an unhappy man. Or so I thought.

XXXXXXXX

It was mid-morning the next day before I rode out to see Pappy. I hadn't been there since my talk with him and Uncle Ben about Billy Flynn, and I expected to get a sound tongue-lashing for it. Instead I was greeted like the prodigal son that had just returned home.

"Come in, son, and have some coffee with us." This after Pappy had given me one of the biggest bear hugs in recent memory.

"You feelin' alright, Pappy?" This was not normal behavior for my father.

"Sure, sure, I'm just feelin' good. Happy to hear that Maudie won her lawsuit with your help. You always were a bright boy. Slow learner, but still bright."

"Uh, thank you, I think. How you feelin'?"

"Pretty good for an old man. Ben's got some of that rheumatism, but he's doin' good, too. He got a letter from Beau a couple days ago. He's gonna be a daddy! Danielle and him are finally gonna have a baby, and Ben's beside himself. Can't say as I blame him."

Those were words I never expected to hear coming out of Pappy's mouth. "And how's everything goin' around here?"

"Pretty good, considerin'. Gracie died, and Melody was inconsolable for a few days, then Gracie Junior decided she was gonna be the cats best friend, and they seem to be doin' alright. Not much more than that. Things are pretty quiet. What's goin' on with you? How're you and Doralice doin' with the saloon?"

I cleared my throat. "I own ten percent of Maude's, Pappy."

"You do? How'd that happen?"

I took a few minutes and explained what Maude had done, without my knowledge. Pappy smiled and nodded. "She always did think a lot of you, even before you went down to Mexico to save her girl. Glad to see she's showin' her appreciation."

I pushed myself to get started with the real reason I'd come to see Pappy. "Pa, there's somethin' I wanted to tell you. It's really what I came out here for."

"Yes, Bartley, I figured there was somethin' you wanted to discuss. So get discussin'."

"Pappy, I'm gonna . . . "

Before I could finish, Lily Mae came in from the kitchen and gave me another big hug. "I thought that was you, Mr. B. I missed you last time you was here, I wasn't about to miss you again. How are you?"

We went through everything all over again and ended up spending more than twenty minutes talking about Gracie and Melody, and Gracie Junior's move into her mama's place in Melody's life. When she finally excused herself to go back and tend to dinner, I wasn't even sure how far I'd gotten with what I'd come out here for.

"Pappy, I'm gonna ask Doralice to marry me."

Pappy sat dead still for a minute, and then nodded his head. "Bout time you did that, son. I was wonderin' what was takin' you so long."

I was at a loss for words. "You . . . I mean I . . . are you . . . that's all you got to say?"

"Congratulations?"

I put my hands on my knees and began to laugh. He laughed with me, and when I finished laughing, I finally asked, "You okay with that?"

"I been waitin' for that to happen for the past two or three years. That woman was made for you. I'll be proud to have her as a daughter-in-law. When you gonna ask her?"

For the first time in my life, Pappy left me absolutely speechless.


	15. At Last

Chapter 14 – At Last

Pappy's question was the one weighing on me. "When you gonna ask her?"

After a nice long visit with my father, I rode back to Little Bend. There was only one thing on my mind, and that was Doralice and just how I was gonna handle the problem that lay before me. Not that she was the problem, mind you. Nope, my own indecision was the problem here. How, when, where, and just exactly what I was gonna say were the problems.

Life went on as before. A little quieter, a lot calmer, the most exciting thing that happened was when Cristian told Maude she was no longer married to Luther Donovan. They celebrated, I'm sure, in their own way, and began making arrangements to get married a week from Saturday. No big ceremony like last time, they decided on a quiet little wedding at the saloon, with a big party to follow. Only the Maverick's, Josie, Dave Parker and the saloon staff were invited, and again I got to be Cristian's best man while Pappy escorted the bride to her groom. Uncle Ben and Lily Mae were happy to be there, and I think the entire town attended the party that followed.

Once again I was struck by how beautiful Doralice was. Not just beautiful on the outside, but a truly magnificent soul. I found myself wondering, as I held her in my arms and danced with her, just what life with this woman would be like. I had the feeling it would never be dull, and suddenly I was eager to ask her the question I'd been waiting to ask my whole life. I may have said the words before, but I never meant them the way I would mean these. She was everything to me, and I didn't want to live another day without her.

The wedding celebration went on all night, and it was almost sun up as we walked back to the house. I'd been living here with her for quite some time, but I'd never thought of it as 'our' house. This morning I saw it that way for the first time. I was beginning to see a lot of things differently than I had before, but there was this little thing I needed to do to make that a reality. She unlocked the front door, and suddenly I picked her up and carried her into the house, kicking the door closed behind me. "Have you lost your mind?" she giggled as I set her down on the settee.

"That insinuates that I have one to lose."

"Don't you?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I think I lost it the first time I saw you in Mexico."

She giggled again. "You were appalled by what you saw."

Ah, yes, the filthy, shackled creature that the Mexican soldiers were dragging towards me. I could see the matted hair, the dirty and torn clothes, the bruises and welts on her back. But what I really saw was the portrait that hung over Maude's desk; the beautiful, golden hair, the smooth, perfect skin, the aqua blue eyes. I was repulsed and enthralled at the same time. She saved my life and the repulsion vanished; the only thing that remained through the years was the beauty that I had seen under all the dirt.

I'd waited long enough. I resisted for years, insisting that we were far better as friends, that I didn't want her, that I didn't love her. And then somewhere along the way I realized all the denials were lies, and the only one I wanted was Doralice. For the rest of my life.

I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew that she'd never try to fence me in or tie me down, and she understood that when I left to go play poker I wasn't running away from her, and when I returned I was running to her. And I knew that she loved me with all her heart.

"There's somethin' I been waitin' to ask you for a while. Ever since . . . well, ever since Maude won the lawsuit."

"Is this about Melody?" We'd talked on more than one occasion about bringing the cat to live with us; she was gettin' older and the barn out at the ranch was no place for her to spend her final years.

"No, it's not about the cat."

"Then what's it about? And why did you pick me up and carry me into the house? Are you plannin' another poker trip? So soon after the mess we just been through? Or did you wanna talk about the changes you wanna make to the saloon? If you do . . . "

I walked over to where she was perched on the settee and sat down beside her. I reached over and took her left hand in mine, and brought her fingers to my lips and kissed them. "This is about us. Not the house, not the business, not your mother or my father, and certainly not the cat. Just you and me. I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition?"

"Well, I have an idea that I think would work out if we gave it a try."

"And what might that be?"

Before I had a chance to get started, it sounded like a cattle stampede outside the front door. The great room was no place to ask the most important question of my life with all the noise, and I picked her up from the settee and carried her to the bedroom. It was quieter in here, and I laid her down on the bed and kneeled on the floor next to her. "What are you doing down there?" she questioned.

"I'm closer to your ear down here."

She giggled again as she turned towards me on the bed. "And why is that important?"

"Because I want to be sure you hear me."

"Bart, I always hear you."

"We've been through a lot since I started staying here with you."

"It'd be a lot easier if you'd move everything you've got in here."

"I'd feel like an intruder, Doralice. Like a boarder that should be payin' you rent."

She thought about that for a minute. "Yeah, I can see that. There must be a way to avoid it."

"There is, and it's so simple I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"Okay, what is it?"

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "All you have to do is marry me."

She looked at me like she hadn't heard me right. "What?"

"Doralice Donovan, will you marry me?"

She sat straight up in bed. "You're serious? This isn't some sort of a joke?"

I looked her right in the eyes. "This is no joke. I want you to marry me. Will you?"

"When?"

"Right away. As soon as we can manage it. I've waited long enough for this."

"You're sure?"

That's when I leaned over the bed and kissed her. I was still on my knees on the floor, and she pulled me up to my feet and onto the bed. "You haven't answered me," I reminded her as I wrapped my arms around her and rolled over her on the bed.

"I haven't, have I?" she teased. "I suppose I should. Give you an answer, I mean." She was silent for a moment. "Does Beauregard know?"

"He does."

"And what did he have to say?"

"I don't care what Pappy had to say. Will you marry me?"

"Bartley." I sighed. It was obvious she was gonna drag this out as long as she could.

"He wanted to know what took me so long."

"That's an excellent question. What did take you so long?"

"I'll be damned if I know." I rolled out the other side of the bed and stood up. "Any other questions?"

"Not at this exact moment."

"Well?"

"I'm thinking."

That's when I walked out of the bedroom and pulled the door shut tight, then stood there and held it closed. It only took a minute before I felt tugging on the door knob. "Are you holding this door closed?" I heard mumbled through the wood.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Well, let me out."

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. "Not until you give me an answer."

"To what?" she asked innocently.

I didn't answer her, and we stood that way for a good five minutes – me on one side of the bedroom door, the woman I loved on the other. Finally, I heard a very faint, "Bart. Bart, let me out."

"Will you marry me?"

"As soon as you let me out of this room."

I opened the door and had two arms full of the most beautiful aqua eyed blonde in the world. The once and future Mrs. Bart Maverick.


	16. Plans, Plans and More Plans

Chapter 15 – Plans, Plans and More Plans

We didn't tell anyone for two days. It was like a delicious secret that only the two of us shared, and we made the most of it. There was a newfound closeness, a feeling of 'us against the world' that hadn't existed before. And holding each other in the morning when we got home from the saloon was our own special time that we didn't have to share with anyone else.

Finally, on the morning of the third day, I got us a buggy and we drove out to Uncle Ben's house. Ben and Pappy were having breakfast with Lily Mae, and they'd just gotten a letter from Bret that told them he was on his way back to Little Bend for a spell.

"Mr. B, Miss Doralice, sit down, I've got a fresh pot of coffee right here." Lily Mae was happy to see us and poured us both coffee before she stopped what she was doing and looked at me. "Mr. B, what's goin' on? Somethin's different, I can see it. What are . . . are you . . . oh my." And she sat down abruptly, and I saw a tear slide down her cheek. Trust Lily Mae to know there was something out of the ordinary about to happen.

Doralice turned to Lily Mae and wiped the tear away. "Don't cry, Lily, your little boy had to grow up sometime." And my soon-to-be-wife held my surrogate mother while Lily cried.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Pappy asked with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, it does," I answered, and he stood and gave me another of those bear hugs of his.

"Good move," he said to me, then turned to Doralice. "You sure, girl?"

"Beyond a doubt," was her reply. There was a woman who'd never be intimidated by Pappy.

"Congratulations," Uncle Ben gave me a more human version of Pappy's hug, followed by a kiss on Doralice's cheek.

"When?" Lily Mae finally stopped crying and asked.

"When's Bret gonna be home? What does his letter say?"

"Week after next," Pappy read out loud. "Says we can wire him in Denver if we need him sooner."

I checked with Doralice. "Can we be ready by the time he gets here?"

"You mean I get two weeks to get ready? Isn't that an awful lot of time?" I looked at Pappy and we both started laughing. "What's so funny?" Doralice asked.

"I only gave Isabelle a week," Pappy explained.

"Where are you gettin' married?' Lily Mae asked, and a silence fell over the room.

"I . . . I don't know. We haven't talked about it." The bride and the groom looked at each other, and we were both mystified.

"The saloon?" Pappy asked.

"The church," Lily Mae suggested.

"Here at the house," Ben put in his two-cents worth.

And then the answer hit me. It might be odd, but if Doralice had no objections, I knew the perfect spot. "Up on the hill, under the Desert Willow Tree. So Momma can be there." I looked at the woman I'd asked to marry me, and she nodded.

"Perfect."

"And we can hold the reception at the saloon, just the way Maude did. Alright with you?"

Doralice smiled. "That will make Maude happy."

"Will it make you happy?" I asked her.

She smiled that beautiful smile she had. "Very."

"What are you gonna do about a ring, boy?" Pappy asked.

There was another thing we hadn't thought about. "Do you want one?"

"Yes, sir. Don't you?"

The only one I'd worn with Caroline had been her father's. I still wore it as a pinky ring on my right hand. This one would be all mine. "Yeah, I do. Claytonville's got a store where they just sell jewelry – rings and such. Let's go over there on Saturday and see what we can find."

"Good. There's that dress shop over there – remember? I bet I can find the perfect dress to wear."

My turn to smile. "Honey, anything you wear would be perfect."

"You sure you don't want the church?" Lily Mae asked.

I hated to disappoint her, but . . . "Lily Mae, that hilltop is about the holiest place I know."

She bowed her head. She knew exactly what I meant.

XXXXXXXX

We drove back to town slowly. There was so much to think about; things I never had to think about before. "Now I'll move all my things to the house."

"Good idea. We'll get a couple extra bartenders to help Maude on Friday and we can come back out to the mansion and gather everything up."

"I don't have all that much, darlin'."

"We'll have to do somethin' about that. My husband has to be the best-dressed floor manager in all of Texas."

"Oh, God. You're gonna be as bad as Bret about stuff like that, ain't ya?"

"You better believe it."

By the time we got back to Little Bend, the shopping trip to Claytonville had turned into a major trip. Not that it mattered; all I cared about was that Doralice was happy. If a few new clothes and a couple rings made her that way, I was all for it.

Besides, there was something I wanted to look for myself. Pappy had given Momma a Bible on their wedding day, and I wanted to do the same thing. And if I bought one in Little Bend, Doralice would know five minutes later.

Randy was behind the bar at Maude's when we got there. "Randy, we'll be in Maude's office. No disturbances, alright?"

"Sure, Bart. No disturbances."

Maude looked up when we walked into her office but looked a little confused when I closed the door. Doralice sat down in front of her mother's desk, and I took the second chair.

"This looks ominous," Maude stated. "Do I need a drink?"

"You might, Mother. Are you in the mood for another wedding?"

"Another . . . oh my God. You are? When did this happen? And when is it gonna be?"

We took turns filling Maude in on the details, and with each and every answer her smile got bigger. She even nodded at the location of the nuptials. And she was thrilled beyond normal bounds when we asked if we could hold the reception in the saloon. "Of course you can. We'll throw the biggest party this town has ever seen. Even bigger than mine and Cristian's."

"We've got one more request, Maude, and we hope you can make Cristian understand," I started.

"And that is?"

"I don't want anyone to walk me to my groom," Doralice finished. "I want to walk to him all on my own. It has nothing to do with Cristian, or Beauregard, or anyone else. But it's important to me."

Maude nodded. "I understand. It's your weddin', and it should be the way you want it to be. Is Bret gonna be your best man?"

"Sounds like it. He's on his way back home right now. Course he doesn't know yet, but he'll find out soon enough."

"And we'll be gone on Saturday – we're goin' to Claytonville for some shopping."

"Oh?" Maude asked. "Anything special?"

"Lots and lots," Doralice answered.

"Rings," I offered.

"And a dress. And we'll see if there's anything Bart likes."

"As long as it's not a dress," I told the two of them, and waited for them to laugh. Neither one did. The women in my life have no sense of humor.


	17. Mrs Stone

Chapter 16 – Mrs. Stone

It only took one trip on Friday to collect my personal belongings from Uncle Ben's and take them back to Dora . . . our house. I chuckled when Doralice started fussin' over how few clothes I had; it had been a while since I'd bought anything besides the clothes I got before Cristian and Maude got married – the first time. I hadn't been travelin', and there were just some things that seemed more important than dressing like a gamblin' man. And I heard it from Doralice.

"We are buyin' you some new clothes in Claytonville," she announced as I unloaded my belongings from the wagon we'd borrowed. "What you look like out on the floor of that saloon is just as important as Maude and me or the saloon girls."

"Yes, ma'am. You gonna get on me about wearin' black the way Bret does?"

She shook her head and laughed. "No, sir. You wear whatever you wanna wear."

Saturday in Claytonville was an experience not to be forgotten. I dropped Doralice off at the dress shop; she didn't want me to see her dress until the wedding. I went to the Claytonville Saloon and had a cup of coffee, then investigated their General Store, where they kept some decent looking shirts and pants. I was still happier with a pin-tucked shirt than anything else and picked up several, along with three new pairs of pants. I'd go back to Sam Humphries in Little Bend to have coats and vests tailored for me – they never fit right if they weren't made specifically for the way I was built. I was just about to head back to the saloon for more coffee when Doralice turned up. "Done already?" I asked.

"I sure am. How about you?"

I showed her what I bought, and she seemed pleased but confused. "Don't you need coats too?"

"I'll get those from Sam in town. He does a great job, better than anything I could buy here."

"Oh. Makes perfect sense. How about some lunch before we go ring shopping?"

Sounded good to me, and I told her so. "How about the Juliet Café? I haven't been there for a long time."

"Lead the way." She took my arm and snuggled against me, and it felt good. We found a table and sat down, and were just about ready to order when I heard a voice from the past.

"Bart? Bart Maverick?" I looked up, startled to hear my name spoken by somebody in Claytonville, and couldn't believe my eyes. It was Lolly McGee, or rather an older, grayer Lolly McGee, the first girl . . . well, let's just say, my first girl. I hadn't seen her since the day she left Little Bend, too long ago to remember anything other than the fact that I was seventeen years old at the time.

"Lolly McGee? Is that really you?"

She laughed, and I stood as she hugged me. Doralice remained seated, with an amused look on her face.

"Oh my, it hasn't been McGee for years and years. It's Stone, Lolly Stone. My husband runs the City Saloon, and I own a little piece of the café here. What are you doin' in Claytonville? And who's the lucky lady with you?"

"We're shopping, believe it or not, for rings. Doralice Donovan, this is Lolly Mc . . . Stone. Lolly, Doralice and me are gettin' married."

Lolly looked like she was liable to choke or spit, and I wasn't sure which. "You? Married? What happened to the boy that was gonna travel the country and play poker with his brother?"

That's when Doralice spoke up. She had the sweetest smile on her face, and butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Oh, he did that for years, Mrs. Stone. But we're settled down now in Little Bend. Bart and me own Maude's – I assume you've heard of it? The biggest saloon in the county?"

"Oh my, sure I've heard of it. Mr. Stone would love for the City Saloon to be as successful and well-known as Maude's. Well, Bart, you've done right well for yourself. It was good to see you after all this time. I'll send your waitress right over." She looked right at Doralice. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Donovan. You got yourself a right fine gentleman there." Lolly kissed me on the cheek and headed for the kitchen.

Doralice had a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry. I got a little carried away."

"You think?" I asked as our waitress finally appeared and took our order. "We own Maude's? Isn't that stretchin' things a bit?"

"Just a little," she giggled. "But it's sort of true. And you already DO own ten percent of the place. It'll be half someday."

"I met Lolly when I was seventeen. I haven't seen her since she left Little Bend, before I turned eighteen. That's all there ever was, and all there was ever gonna be."

Doralice was quiet for a minute; I could hear the wheels turnin' in her head. "She . . . she was the girl, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was."

"Did you love her?"

That was an easy question to answer. "No."

"Not even a little bit?"

I shook my head. "No. That's why she left Little Bend. It was never gonna happen, no matter how long she stayed there, and she knew it."

When the waitress brought our food we ate in silence for the first few minutes. Finally, it was time to put an end to this. "I've known a lot of women in my life, Doralice. I won't pretend that's not true. Some of 'em I've loved, some I haven't. But there's never been anybody like you in my life, and there never will be. And you know that."

She looked like a puppy that's just been scolded. My old look, Bret would have insisted if he'd been there. "I . . . I do know. I'm sorry I was rude to her, but the way she looked at you . . . like she had some claim on you that I could never have . . . and I know better than that. I promise no more jealousy on my part. Am I forgiven?"

I reached across the table and took her hand. "Ain't nothin' to forgive. It's you I'm marryin', not anybody else on this earth. Now, what kind of a ring do you want? Anything special?"

She shook her head. "Somethin' plain, and elegant. What about you? Somethin' to go with your pinkie ring?"

I'd never explained the pinkie ring to Doralice; she'd never asked. This was my moment of truth, so to speak. "Nope, I'm gonna put the pinkie ring away. It belongs in the past. So I'm willin' to look at most anything."

She looked at me and smiled, this beautiful woman that had consented to be my wife. She didn't know what significance the ring had played in my life, but she knew it was important, somehow. And that I had just told her my wedding ring was gonna be a lot more important.


	18. The Best Man

Chapter 17 – The Best Man

Shopping for rings was long and tedious, but fruitful. Doralice found something that she liked right away, a polished gold band with a heart carved into it. I was harder to please and had almost given up looking when I finally found just the right one. Another gold band, with the Ace of Hearts carved on the outside. Totally me, yet a good match for Doralice's ring. Of course, it cost a small fortune, probably due to the carving, but I didn't care. I was only buyin' one of these in my lifetime.

Our shopping done, we headed back towards Little Bend. It had been a good day, even the encounter with Lolly. I finally cleared the air about my life before Doralice, and she took it well. I hoped that my talk with Bret went half as well. Whether he was ready for marriage or not, I was.

XXXXXXXX

The next week went by pretty quick; I was surprised. I took Doralice with me when I went to see Sam Humphries, and she found a couple coats I might have been hesitant about before. They tended to have a little more color than I normally wore, but nowhere near Dandy Jim's clothes. One was a little darker than medium blue; the other was a deep forest green. And of course, he had two beautiful black frock coats that were perfect. Three new waistcoats finished out the buying spree, but I was quite pleased, and so was Doralice. She was right, I needed to dress like I was part of the establishment, because I was.

The day finally came for Bret's stage to arrive, and I went to meet the coach by myself. I had no idea how he was gonna react, and I didn't want him to say somethin' in front of Doralice that he might regret later.

He was the last one off the stage and looked pretty good for having spent the better part of ten days traveling. There was a big smile on his face when he saw me, and I got enveloped by the Maverick bear hug; it had replaced the cold fish handshake that used to punctuate our greetings. It took the Maverick clan a while to show affection with each other.

"You're lookin' good, Brother Bart."

"Not too bad yourself, Brother Bret."

"Where's everybody else? Didn't they want to come greet me?"

Well, it took us about three seconds to get down to the subject I wanted to avoid like the devil. "Uh, they thought it might be best if I was the one that picked you up."

"That doesn't sound good. What trouble are you in this time?"

Trust my brother to have that kind of faith in me. "I'm not in trouble, Bret. Me and Doralice are gettin' married."

Bret shook his head. "You sure this time? I've heard you say those words before."

"I'm talkin' about Doralice, brother. She's not like any woman I've ever been involved with. This wedding is happening. I've already moved into her house here in town, and all my belongings are there."

"What are you gonna do about playin' poker? And if you don't play, how are you gonna make money? And how are you gonna handle not travelin' around?"

I had grabbed Bret's suitcase and wanted to sit down somewhere. "Let's go to the LB Bar and have some coffee, and we can finish this discussion. Besides, you ain't seen what they did over there."

"Declared it a public health hazard and tore it down?"

"Very funny. No, Benny finally spent some money on the place. It almost looks good."

We walked the half block or so to the LB Bar. I let Bret go in first so he would get the unobstructed view. I heard him suck in his breath and mutter, "Oh my God." Ray Ames was behind the bar, as always, and he waved and smiled. Some things never change.

"Told you."

Bret sat down at a table and I followed. Ray automatically brought two cups of coffee over, then slapped me on the back. "Heard you're gettin' married, Bart. Congratulations." Then he turned to Bret. "You here for the weddin'?"

"Well yes, I guess I am. How'd you like all the changes that Benny made?"

"Suits me fine. The place has been fallin' apart for years. Bart picked himself somebody special to be Mrs. Maverick, didn't he? Listen, I gotta get back to the bar. I'll keep an eye on your coffee cups."

Once again Bret shook his head. "Same old Ray. I'm surprised Benny didn't replace him, too."

"According to Ray, he tried. Nobody else would take the job."

"Can't blame 'em. Maude have that problem?"

"Bret, me and Doralice are just about runnin' the place. Maude's there in the mornin's, but when we come in, she's gone."

"So that's what you're doin' for money."

"I'm workin' as Doralice's floor manager, unless it's slow. Then I find a game and play poker. And if I want to go somewhere out-of-town for poker, I go."

"What does Maude have to say about that arrangement?"

"Bret, I own ten percent of Maude's."

His eyes got big. "Well, management and an owner too. Did you get that for marryin' the girl?"

That question didn't sit well with me. "Maude changed the ownership before she got married. I didn't know anything about it."

Bret looked stricken. "Calm down, son. I meant it as a joke."

"Might as well clear up your other question. Not travelin' constantly ain't gonna bother me at all. Besides, I can go wherever I want whenever I want. She ain't gonna put me in a corral with a shackle around my legs; she's marryin' me." I took a swallow of coffee. "This is the one, Bret, just like Momma was for Pappy. I don't wanna spend another day without her. And I been around enough to know." I laid my hand down on the table, the one that usually wore the pinkie ring. The ring was gone, safely put away somewhere. It took Bret a minute, but he finally noticed that I was ringless. He stared at my right hand for a long time before he said anything.

"Alright, I give up. You must be confident to take the pinkie ring off. When and where's the weddin'? You ain't gettin' married in a church, are you?"

I shook my head. "The weddin's anytime in the next few days that we can pull it all together. And no, we're not gettin' married in a church. We're gettin' married . . . on the hilltop, so Momma can be there."

"Doralice is okay with that?"

"She understands completely. She's got her dress, and I already bought rings. Only thing I need is . . . a best man."

"So get . . . oh. Are you askin' me?"

I nodded this time. "Wouldn't have nobody else."

"I'm honored. And of course I'll do it. Who's gonna give the bride away?"

"Nobody. It's a long story, but she prefers it that way. And it's her decision to make."

"Explain it to me sometime. Right now I'd like to go make sure the bride-to-be knows what she's gettin' into. I promise I won't try to discourage her." His eyes twinkled as he asked me the next question. "You got an office, Mr. Floor Manager?"

"Nope. Not yet. We'll have to wait and see what happens."

"Let's go then. You can pay for the coffee."

Like I said before, some things never change.


	19. One Last Dance

Chapter 18 – One Last Dance

Bret followed me back to the house, and I told him a little about the mess we'd all been through with Luther Donovan. "So it's really Sam Winston that's dead, huh? This Donovan sure had everybody fooled. I guess I can understand about Doralice not wantin' anybody to give her away. Can't be easy when your own father acts like he don't want you. How's she doin' otherwise?"

"Doin' fine. We work real well together. Sorta think along the same lines. I don't know what took me so long, Bret, but I'm sure glad I finally realized . . . well, here we are."

"Nice house. Wasn't this Maude's place?"

"Yep. Before Maude and Cristian got married they bought a little house on the edge of town, and gave this to Doralice. I been livin' here with her for a while."

"Pappy didn't give you a hard time?"

"Nope. I think he had it figured out before I did."

I opened the door and led Bret inside. "Hey, blue eyes, you home?"

From the back of the house I heard her call, "No, I went to work already. Unless you brought Bret home with you, then I'm here." She came out of what used to be her old bedroom and looked like a dream. Fancy red dress, hair piled up on top of her head; she took my breath away.

I must have stared for a while because I heard Bret mutter, "Yeah, you better get married, son. You got it bad."

She ran right up to Bret and gave him a hug and a kiss, and it was his turn to stare. "I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into, marryin' this brother of mine, but it looks like you got it all figured out."

She just laughed and went straight to the kitchen. "I got a fresh pot of coffee, just made. Y'all want some?"

We both nodded, and I went to the kitchen to help her. "Nice lookin' place you got here," Bret remarked.

"Thanks. There's some things we'd like to do with it, but they can wait. Things are a little busy right now. I fixed up the spare bedroom for you, in case you wanna stay here tonight instead of goin' out to your Uncle's."

"Pappy and Uncle Ben got no problem with that, long as you come out tomorrow. If you decide to stay in town, Maude's gonna work tonight with Doralice, and I'm takin' off to spend the night with you. It gives them a chance to work out some details about the weddin'."

I carried in coffee for Doralice and me; she brought Bret's and some cookies she'd made just this morning. "All this and you bake, too?" Bret asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

"Bake? Hell, she's a damn fine cook. If I don't quite eatin' so much, I'm gonna be fat like you."

Bret laughed. "That'll be the day. You could still use some weight on you, son."

"That's what I said, but he won't listen to me," my bride-to-be pronounced as she bit into a cookie.

"Just about food. I took your advice about clothes, didn't I?"

"You got him to go shopping? How'd you manage that? He always wanted to look good, he just didn't want to go out and have to buy what he needed. And have you stopped him from buyin' all black?"

Doralice shook her head. "He likes black. He's comfortable in black. But we have added a little variety."

"You gonna dress like Buckley from now on?"

"There's a man I haven't seen in a while. You heard anything from Buckley?" Not that I expected Dandy to track down Bret, given their personal animosity, but I hadn't seen or heard from him in months.

"No. Why would I? You know how we are with each other. Have you met Buckley yet, Doralice?"

"That's the friend goes by Dandy Jim? No, I haven't had the pleasure."

Bret burst out laughing and Doralice looked at me like 'what did I say?' I reached over and patted her hand. "It's alright. Bret just has no manners, that's all."

"Not when it comes to Buckley, I don't." He put down his coffee cup and turned to face Doralice. "Buckley is a no-account con man, a liar and a cheat, and has no affection for anyone or anything in this world except Buckley. And Bart, for some strange reason. And if he ever turns up you'll find that out for yourself."

"Is that all true?"

"Well," I hesitated, "to a certain extent. He's not that bad, you just can't trust him."

"That's bad enough, even if all the rest of it isn't."

"Don't be fooled. Everything I told you is true. Buckley has no redeeming features, other than his friendship for Bart. Don't ever turn your back on him."

Doralice went to the kitchen for the coffee pot, and poured all three of us another cup. "Well, Brother Bret, are you gonna stay here tonight or not? If not, I'll need to be gettin' the buggy ready for the trip."

"No, I think I'll take you up on the offer and stay overnight. Who knows, it might be the last night we're ever alone together."

"I doubt that, Brother Bret. We're gettin' married, I ain't movin' to another country. But a night off would be good."

"Can I trust you two to stay out of trouble?"

"No, probably not," I told her. "But we'll try not to get arrested." I took the empty coffee cups to the kitchen. "You goin' in now?"

"I should. Why don't you two come along and Bret can say hello to Maude? I'm sure she'd love to see him."

"That's not a bad idea, Bret. We can decide what to do, or not do, while we're there."

"Sure, why not? It's been a while since I saw Maude. And I haven't seen the saloon for quite a while."

"Alright then. Let's go."

Ten minutes later Bret was sittin' in Maude's office drinkin' coffee while she had her ever-present brandy. I was behind the bar with Doralice helpin' with some last minute set-up. The saloon was busy, but not ordinarily so, when a cowboy I'd never seen before walked up to the bar and pulled a gun on Doralice. She froze as he told her, "Gimme everything in the cash box, and hurry."

Her face was full of shock as I heard him pull the hammer back. He glanced at me and growled, "Don't move, mister, or I shoot her."

I didn't have a gun on, so there wasn't much I could do. Bret must have heard something, sittin' in Maude's office, because he appeared suddenly in her doorway. Doralice was still frozen in place, so I reached for the cash box. _'Don't shoot her, don't shoot her,'_ kept racing through my mind, and for some reason the cowboy must have thought I was reachin' for a gun. In that split second I knew just what he was gonna do, and I threw the cash box in his face and jumped in front of Doralice just as he pulled the trigger. ' _Good, he missed,'_ I thought for a second, and then I felt the burning in my chest and knew I'd taken the bullet instead. The cowboy ran for the door and I heard another shot; this one came from Bret. The cowboy went down just as I collapsed, and Doralice was beside me in an instant. My chest was on fire and I couldn't breathe; I could see the tears running down my girls face and I could see her lips moving, but I couldn't hear what she was sayin'. Bret's face appeared right behind her just before everything faded to black, and all I could hear ringing in my ears was my own voice, crying out, _'No! No! Not now, God! Not now!'_

TBC


	20. Epilogue - Bret Maverick

Epilogue – Bret Maverick

I'd been sittin' in Simon Petry's front room for several hours now, waiting to see what kind of magic he could provide as a skilled surgeon. I'm Bret Maverick, Bart's older brother, and I wasn't sittin' there by myself. Bart's fiancé, Doralice Donovan, was here with me the whole time. Her mother, Maude de la Torres, and Maude's husband, Cristian de La Torres, had been here most of that time, too. Finally Maude couldn't stay here anymore; her nerves wouldn't take it and she had a saloon to run, and Cristian took her back there, with every intention of doing what was necessary to keep Maude in one piece.

Doralice was calm now . . . she hadn't been when we first carried Bart in here. They were within days of gettin' married, and Bart had stepped in front of her to save her when some unknown cowboy tried to hold the place up, panicked and took a shot at her. She wasn't hysterical, but she was crying pretty hard and just kept mumbling something that sounded like "My hero, my hero."

I would have worried about the cowboy gettin' away, but I'd taken a shot from the doorway of Maude's office and was lucky enough to hit him. What was left of him was Sheriff Dave Parker's problem; Bart was mine. Doctor Simon Petry was still in his office, and we got Bart there as fast as we could. He'd been hit in the right side of the chest, and from the way his breathin' sounded the bullet must have caught a lung. He never opened his eyes, even when we slid him onto the exam table, and Simon ran us all out of the room. The girl and me had been sittin' out here ever since.

"Bret," she finally murmured softly, "tell me he's gonna live."

"He's gonna live," I replied; I didn't know if it was a lie or not. I'd seen him hurt worse than this, but he was a little older now, and I had no idea what kind of damage the bullet had done to his lung.

"He has to. I can't . . . I can't live without him."

I reached over and took her hands in mine – they were as cold as ice. "This happened more than once when we were younger, and he always pulled through, Doralice. He ain't gonna quit on us now."

We sat in silence for another thirty minutes or so before the door to the exam room opened, and Simon emerged. His hands and arms were clean, but his shirt was full of blood. My brother's blood. I stood up, tryin' to read the look on Simon's face, then Doralice did the same. When Simon finally spoke he sounded beyond weary. "He's gonna make it," was the first thing he said, and the girl fell into my arms. "It ain't gonna be easy, that bullet did some serious damage. It could take quite a while before he's strong enough for you two to get married. But he'll live."

Doralice kissed me, then she kissed Simon before she collapsed back into her chair. Simon offered his hand and I ignored it; we'd been at some odds over the woman that was now his wife a few years ago. A handshake wasn't enough, and I wrapped him in my arms and murmured in his ear, "Thanks, Simon."

"You're welcome," he replied, then I let go and he turned to Doralice. "There's no sense staying here, he'll be out until way past morning. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? I'll be here with him."

Doralice nodded and I helped her out of the chair. "I'm takin' you back to the house, then I'll go tell Maude."

"Is it after four?" she asked, and I nodded. "She's closed up by now. She probably went to the house to wait. Just take me home, please."

It was a short walk, but it took some time to get there. The house had a light on inside and I could see Maude standin' at the window. She didn't wait for us to get inside, just flung the door open and stood framed in the doorway.

"He's gonna make it," I told her, and she threw her arms around me, then let go and enveloped her daughter.

"Thank God," she murmured, and we all trudged into the house to wait for morning.

The End


End file.
